


The Daily Grindr

by blueoleandar93



Series: The Daily 'Verse [1]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Bisexual!Morgan, Cheating, Demisexual!Reid, M/M, Sexting, brief Morgan/Savannah, morgan being bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-24
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-05-22 17:26:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 48,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6088242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueoleandar93/pseuds/blueoleandar93
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a rough break up with Savannah, Morgan downloads Grindr. He didn't expect to like it. And he definitely didn't expect to find a certain residential genius's profile.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cute Cousin Keron

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know when you finish if you would like/want to see this expanded into a multi verse.

Morgan fucked up.

He fucked up bad. 

No one had to tell him. He knew the entire time that what he was doing was wrong. But, he couldn't seem to stop himself. It's like when you're watching a horror movie and the stupid white girl hears a noise in her haunted house and decides to go into the basement alone in her underwear to investigate instead of grabbing her purse and booking it to her friend's place. You know she's about to get killed. Hell, even she knows she's about to get killed. But she walks into the basement and you cough up the twelve bucks to watch the whole thing unfold even though none of this will surprise either of you. Morgan's fuck up was exactly like that. 

Bless, his sweet, darling bisexual heart. Derek Morgan is a simple man. He enjoys the simple pleasures of life: food, sports, beer, sex, and -- on frequent occasion -- the shape of a man's butt in basketball shorts.

He stopped training FBI newbies five years ago, and when he and Savannah moved in together, he installed a little home gym in the basement for convenience. When their schedules coincide, they spend time snuggling and screwing and going out like any other couple. But when she's not home and he's not busy, he heads downstairs and pounds the pavement by himself. It's been about two years since he's worked out around other dudes, and honestly, that's a good thing. Before Savannah, he had a system. Pick up girls at the clubs, pick up guys at the gym. It was easy, simple, and uncomplicated. Girls dressed to impress when they went to turn up with their friends and guys stripped down to nearly nothing in Planet Fitness. At both places, Morgan had a visual smorgasbord of sexy people to lure into a bathroom hookup session. Nothing felt better to Morgan than the chase. Spotting a hottie from across the gym while he's running on the treadmill. The hottie takes off his shirt. Morgan shifts to the elliptical. The hottie walks over to the bench press. Morgan bumps up his settings. The hottie lays down on the flat bench and relaxes with his legs splayed just so. If Morgan trains his eye well enough, he can tell you the guy's religion through those damned shorts, and the hottie knows it. It would only be minutes before they meet in the shower to work out a different kind of muscle, you know? 

But, he was in a committed relationship. And, so he's had to cut a few things out of his life to resist temptation. He loved Savannah, he really did. Hurting her was the last thing he wanted to do. So, he settled down. No more clubs. Only bars with friends and absolutely no bathroom breaks. And the gym? No. Never again. There's no way he's walking into that venus flytrap covered in sweating, topless, panting, nearly naked men. No, thank you. So, he set himself up with a sweet gig in the basement and it worked. It worked for three years. And then, the worst thing in the world that could have happened, happened. His treadmill broke. 

Morgan considered himself a pretty decent handyman, but there was no way he was even going to consider fixing that thing himself. It was top of the line. Morgan was more of a builder than a fixer. So, a night later while Savannah and Morgan were washing their dinner dishes, he told her about the treadmill. She immediately volunteered her cousin Keron. He was a master when it came to electrical work, the guy owned his own small business in Chestertown. He could come over on Sunday and fix it up right away after his community football team practices.

So, he did. Thursday, Friday, and Saturday passed. Sunday arrived and Savannah kissed Morgan briefly after breakfast before lacing up her non-slips and heading out to check on her patients and complete a 12-hour. He smacked her ass on the way out and she passed over a heatless glare before reminding him that Keron was coming by today to check out the broken treadmill. So, Morgan called over Garcia and they hunkered down on the couch for an afternoon of junk food and deceptively sad 80's chick flicks, making fun of the lines and throwing Skittles at the screen to see if they could get the leading lady in the boob. 

It was about 4:30pm when the doorbell rang and Morgan patted his buddy's blonde curls before striding over to the door. When he opened it, he didn't expect the strapping, broad, sexy vision of a man to be the "goofy, dorky Keron" from Savannah's childhood that used to steal her Barbies and put Bubble Yum in her hair every time they hung out. But, it was Keron. All six feet of confident, tee shirted, deep dark skinned, constant bedroom eyed, calves for days, curly top that was just unfairly soft looking, basketball shorts that were a literal sin on him, Keron. There was no part of that man's body that Morgan didn't want his tongue on. Then, he smiled. Dear Jesus. Morgan could feel his heart pumping in his chest, rushing blood to his hands and throat and cock. Morgan felt both inadequate and blindingly horny all at the same time. But, he was cool. Calm, collected. Morgan parted and smiled, reaching out to shake Keron's hand. 

Keron greeted him with a velvet deep, "Hey."

Morgan wanted to die. 

He asked where the treadmill was and Morgan led him past the kitchen and the living room to the door at the end of the hallway. He opened the door for Keron and the man smiled pleasantly again. Morgan was sure his underwear was going to melt off of his body. They held eye contact as Keron flipped on the light, illuminating one side of his face even more. Christ on a cracker. He had _dimples_. Keron watched Morgan watch him with this knowing gaze that was literally illegal and said a simple "I'll go downstairs and bang this out for you, alright?"

Morgan's mouth watered as he answered cooly, "Cool, man. Thanks for this by the way."

"Of course, fam, anything for Savi." Keron said simply, heading down the steps before pausing in the middle of them, "And for you too, I guess."

Morgan grew quiet and nodded stiffly, "Let me know if you need any help down there."

Keron raised an eyebrow, clearly taking Morgan's statement to heart but in all the wrong ways, "Oh, I definitely will. Not with the treadmill though, baby."

Morgan's jaw dropped at the statement and Keron started to laugh, clearing the stairs with ease, duffle bag hoisted over his shoulder.  Morgan closed the basement door before scurrying over to the living room and running to the couch. Garcia was already smiling at him with mischief in her eyes. She shuffled closer to him on the couch before cackling, "That man. Looked. _So_ delicious. All of this candy is bullshit, he's the only sweet thing I want in my mouth today."

"I know, right?!" Morgan growled, pressing his face into her pink, fluffy sweatered bosom, "He smiled at me and my knees got peremptory rug burn."

Garcia laughed, tossing her head back before lifting up Morgan's face, "You are so bad. That's Savannah's cousin."

Morgan's eyes widened with excitement, "I know, I know. But, girl. He flirted with me. I said 'let me know if you need help down there', you know, referring to the basement. And he was all 'you'll help me down there, but not with the treadmill'." Garcia gasped and Morgan finished, "And then he called me 'baby'."

Garcia patted his cheek, "Sweetheart."

Morgan answered, "Yeah?"

She replied, "Cute Cousin Keron wants the D."

"The D wants him too!" Morgan grumbled, "This is why I revoked my gym membership! Because of guys like Cute Cousin Keron. They walk in with their dimples and their basketball shorts, and they'll just call you baby until you trip and fall right into their perfectly sculpted asses. This is a fucking trap. He is a trap. I can't sleep with him. But, sweet Christing _fuck_ do I want to."

Garcia sighed, "But, you can't. You have a girlfriend. A hot girlfriend. A crazy hot, nice, wonderful girlfriend. And she loves you. Fuck this up for yourself by chasing after some tail, and I will not hesitate to hit you right in the twins."

Morgan recoiled at the thought of a fist to the balls and took a big breath, "Thanks, baby girl."

"Anytime, darling." Garcia looked him in the eyes before handing him a popsicle from the cooler beside her, "Now, here. Do to this red popsicle what you would do to his dick and just let him go. It's never gonna happen."

Morgan sat up, grabbed the popsicle, ripped off the wrapper, and shoved the entire thing in his mouth. It was cold. Thank God. There was too much heat in Morgan's life right now.

Garcia watched Morgan suck up and down the popsicle before deep throating it and swallowing it down in one go, "Damn, son."

Morgan stared the wooden stick down sadly, "That's how you keep a man."

Garcia rolled her eyes, "Boy, please. My pussy game is on fleek. I don't need pointers from you."

"Girl, you're crazy." Morgan started to laugh, falling back into her embrace before settling back into Sixteen Candles with his best friend. She was a freaking godsend, she really was. So, they made fun of Molly Ringwald's hair, knowing full and damn well that their hair was just as crazy if not worse in the 80's. Garcia admitted to rocking the fuzzy perm and Morgan had jheri curls for days. But the Ringwald bangs were what they both grew up with, so it was kind of fun to see again thirty years later. It was all fun and games until they heard footsteps in the hallway. Cute Cousin Keron. 

The godlike angel walked into the room sans the tee shirt he walked in wearing, heading to the kitchen. Morgan and Garcia watched him walk by in silence. Keron sent over a confident wink, opening the fridge and glancing through it. Garcia spoke up, "Derek tells me you play football."

Keron answered distractedly, "I do. Community team, you know? We coach the kids league in the area and the adults have their own team just for fun."

Garcia answered with a flirty glance down the gorgeous man's bare back, "What position do you play?"

"Oh, you know. Sometimes wide receiver. But, during games?" Keron bent down at the waist and his butt strained against those perfect basketball shorts as he grabbed a water bottle from the bottom of the fridge, turning around to smirk at Morgan knowingly as Morgan stopped staring at the man's butt to give his bedroom eyes some attention, "I'm usually a tight end."

Morgan smiled back with an easy grin, grabbing the throw pillow beside him and pulling it over to his lap casually, "Well, isn't that great?"

Keron straightened up and closed the fridge, turning to them and uncapping the bottle, "Yeah, I'm pretty damn good back there, if I do say so myself."

Morgan pressed the pillow harder into his lap before nodding simply, "I'd be inclined to agree with you."

"You play?" Keron asked with interest, leaning against the fridge to take a long sip of water, a drop falling down his neck and down his bare chest, "I wouldn't be surprised, you seem like you'd be pretty good with balls."

Morgan's throat dried up, "College. I, uh, played for the NCAA. I went to Illinois State."

Keron raised his eyebrows, "Oh, no way. Get outta here. I played first string."

Morgan asked, "What years?"

Keron added, "'95-'98."

Morgan shrugged easily, "'92-'94."

Keron took another long drag out of the water bottle, two drops of water making rivulets down his neck, "That's crazy, we just missed each other. But, Savi says you have your Master's. You were there for at least five years, right? Gosh, imagine how you must have looked in a cap and gown at 22."

"Six years, actually. Criminal Justice." Morgan said, watching the water fall down his chest slowly, "I took a semester off for police academy."

Keron smirked, "Oh, shit, _you're_ a cop? With those eyelashes?"

Morgan looked back up at him, "A fed."

Keron stared back into Morgan's eyes with that knowing grin of his, "So, you have cuffs on you?"

Morgan pressed even harder on the pillow in his lap. He had a boner the size of his fucking wrist right about now and that pillow was the only thing keeping him from tenting up his sweatpants in front of his girlfriend's cousin. Garcia pitched in, "I'm a fed too. Penelope Garcia, tech analyst."

Keron winked at her, "Beauty and brains, huh? You just got it all."

Garcia giggled, waving her hand in his direction, "Oh, quit it with the flattery. You have one hour to stop that sweet talk."

"You're funny too? Damn. I don't stand a chance." Keron finished the water bottle before throwing it into the recycling bin beside the fridge and smirked at Morgan, "Well, I gotta head back in. That machine's not beating me yet. I've gotta get liquored up before the weekend closes out. Scotch won't drink itself."

So, he went back downstairs. Garcia made fun of Morgan's erection. They finished Sixteen Candles. Within the hour, Keron was back upstairs with a proud smile on his face and Morgan's treadmill was in the best shape it could be in. So, Morgan, being the kind host he was, walked Keron to the door. They shot the shit for a little bit, but if they were being honest with themselves, it was pure, unadulterated flirting. Only a few minutes later, they were standing there beside the closed door, fingers touching. One of Keron's hands was stroking up and down Morgan's shoulder and Morgan's fingers were playing in Keron's hair.

Then, he did it. Keron bent and kissed Morgan right there on the cheek. His stubble awakened something in Morgan. He missed men. He missed them desperately. He had forgotten how rough they could feel. How passionate they could bite. How horny they could get. Morgan shouldn't have done this. He had a girlfriend that he loved. But, he did it anyway. He took Keron by the face and kissed him deeply and thoroughly against the door, one hand trailing down to thumb at those damned basketball shorts. It felt so. Fucking. Satisfying to finally reach and touch and kiss and tongue all over a man. A big, strong, sweaty, rough handed man who could fuck Morgan on a counter top just as hard as Morgan could fuck him right back. Keron wrapped his muscled arms around Morgan's shoulders and melted into the kiss, licking into Morgan's mouth like it was his last meal as they necked and necked and necked.

At least five minutes later, Keron pushed himself away from Morgan's lips, both of them hard and panting. Keron reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, extracting a business card and handing it over. Morgan smirked. Email, cell phone, address. Morgan turned it over to see scrawled @keronohowyoufeel. He asked, "'Keron know how you feel'? That's funny. Twitter?"

Keron leaned forward and kissed him once more, softly before opening the front door, "Instagram. DM me sometime, okay, fam?"

Morgan nodded as he walked out of the door, whispering to himself and those basketball shorts, "I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you leave."

He promptly ran into the living room to get his phone, opening up the Instagram app to see his own last post was a selfie with him, Lewis, and Reid in their Kevlars all high on justice after busting a bad guy. He looked hot in it. Thank fuck. Morgan opened up the search and typed in Keron's at name. There he was in the profile bubble, bedroom eyes and curly top looking beyond perfect. Morgan just wants to... mmm... all over his... mmmmmm. Morgan clicked the follow button. Damn. He was on private. Fuck.

Garcia shook her head, "So, what took y'all so long at the door?"

Morgan said distractedly as he scrolled through his home timeline, "We were makin' out."

Garcia sighed with disappointment heavy in her voice, "Dude!"

Morgan double tapped on Rossi's picture of his classic car, "What?"

Garcia snatched his phone from his hands, "You can't be acting all chill, man, you just cheated on your girlfriend."

Morgan glared, "I didn't cheat. We just kissed a little, damn. It's no big deal."

Garcia shrugged, "So, Savannah would be cool with it?"

Morgan gave her a flat look, "Of course she wouldn't be cool with it. I had my tongue down her cousin's throat. She would fucking kill me."

Garcia smacked him on the arm, "Exactly! So, why did you do it?"

"Because he was there and we both wanted it and it's been so long. My God, it's been so long since it was just me and a dude and our stubble and sweat and boners. Girl. His boner. I could feel it through his pants. It's been so long since I felt another guy's boner. And his was huge. It was so big. I just got so thirsty. I had to take a sip." Morgan complained, putting his head in his hands, "It's not that bad. Okay, it was just a kiss. Just one kiss. It means literally nothing. If Savannah kissed another dude a couple minutes ago, I would be totally chill. You know why? Because she didn't fuck him. Just like I'm not going to fuck Keron."

Morgan's phone vibrated in Garcia's hand. She glanced at it, raising her eyebrows, "Oh, really, because apparently 'Keron know how you feel'. He accepted your follow request. And what's this beside the home bar? Is that a DM?" her thumb scrolled across the screen, "Well, would you look at that. 'Hey, there beautiful. Missing me already'?" 

He grabbed his phone back and tapped it twice, sending something before Garcia grabbed it back again, looking at it and shaking her head slowly, "Winky face. Really? Winky face? You whore."

The phone vibrated with another notification that had Garcia gasping in her seat, "Oh, my God. He sent you an eggplant. Holy shit, dude."

Morgan asked, "What's the big deal?"

Garcia sighed, "It's basically a dick pic, grandpa."

Morgan rolled his eyes, "It's not--" Garrica showed Morgan the screen. The way the eggplant was positioned in the emoji keyboard kinda made it look like an erection, "I stand corrected."

Garcia tossed his phone at him, "Fix this."

Morgan snatched his phone up from off of the couch greedily, "I will. I swear. Right after I look through his profile."

Garcia glared at him, "Derek."

Morgan let out a slow, wistful breath, "Look at all these topless selfies. Thank you, Satan."

 

And that's how it started. The long, winding road of deceit and denial. He slid into Keron's DMs so smooth, Astroglide should have sponsored it. This led to a bigger problem. Eggplant emojis weren't always eggplant emojis. Sometimes, they were pictures. Sometimes they were short videos. They traded conversations and laughs and orgasms like they were Pokemon cards. And truth be told, Morgan didn't even _like_ this guy. Keron was cute and all, but he was weed to a future heroin addict. Keron was a gateway drug. And his poison kiss led to some bad shit. 

Some real bad shit.


	2. Chanel Number 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5

Morgan took up lying like it was some sort of hobby. He snuck out of the house, pretended to be on cases, he even dragged Garcia into it, just so that he could hop into his car and meet up with Keron at some dank motel and kiss him. They never fucked. But, they wanted to. So badly. Morgan made it clear that he could kiss Keron as much as he wanted to, but he wouldn't cheat on his girlfriend. It's wrong. It's bad. But, lying and sexting another dude behind her back was perfectly fine, right? No. It wasn't.

He knew it was bad. He knew. But, when he came home to Savannah, he'd take a look into those sweet eyes and he couldn't say anything. She'd cry and yell at him. Morgan doesn't want that. And they live together. He hasn't taken that step with anyone before. What's he supposed to say to the woman he's joined in the longest relationship of his life. Three years. With her. He can't end that over something as simple as kissing her cousin a couple of times. He's too... comfortable. Their relationship is easy. He doesn't have to think about it. So what, he never got butterflies in his stomach when he was around her. So what? He's too old not to be in a serious relationship. He's forty fucking three. He should have kids and a gold band on his finger by now. What the fuck? Why doesn't he?

He knows why.

Because he's been waiting for magic. For a Disney prince connection. Dry mouths and stutter words and tripped up feet -- a person he can't be cool with. A person who sees all of him and still somehow believes he can be better. And, that's never going to happen. Not yet. It only happened once before in his life with one person. And Morgan can't be with _him_. He can't. It's too big.

Fuck. This sucks. And Morgan knows it. He's in love with a guy he'll never have to balls to go after and he's forcing himself into a Plesantville-type relationship with a woman he kinda "likes okay", and on top of that, he's spinning out. He fucked up. He actually managed to seek solace from his double edged sword of a life in the warm, rough hands of a man that wouldn't ask anything of him. And he can't stop. Every time he kisses Keron, he feels that weightlessness. That lack of expectation. He doesn't have to be the Stepford husband to him, and he doesn't have to look into Keron's eyes every day and see Dr. Prince Perfect Fucking Charming staring right back at him just waiting for Morgan to pick up a glass Chuck Taylor and take his perfect hand. 

That lack of expectation.

That lack of "be what I want you to be".

That lack of thought and twisted words and fake smiles.

He never wanted to run away from Keron. He never felt like he wasn't good enough for Keron. All he felt was strong arms holding him together, not giving a single fuck about what any of it means. Because it doesn't mean shit. And that feels so good.  
  
To make matters worse, Keron had a lot of hot queer friends who also didn't mean shit. So, when Morgan wasn't in the mood for Keron, there was Joey and Cameron and Marcus and Kenneth. And they all had Instagram. Keron's friends, they just loved Morgan. They drafted Morgan into their football team, which led to handsy, groping, wrestle sessions in the mud. Which led to kisses. Hot ones, dirty ones, long ones, greedy ones. Mud wrestle practices turned into games, turned into celebratory parties, turned into drunken weekend orgies at Cameron's place. But, he didn't fuck them. He wouldn't. They boys understood, laugh as they may. "Straight Derek Morgan has a girlfriend", they would joke when they fell into the throes of passion on Cameron's California king. And, Straight Derek Morgan watched them fuck each other every time, telling his girlfriend that he's working late instead of staring down five men as they get each other off.

That felt good too. Not lying to her. Watching. Sitting in the same room right across from writhing, naked bodies. Watching. Knowing that if he took one step in the wrong direction, he couldn't look Savannah in the eyes ever again and continue to lie like it's all good. Because whether Morgan wants it or not, sex means something.  Especially when he's in a committed relationship with another woman. Sex means cheating. Real cheating. But lips? There's nothing wrong with lips, right? Hard lips, strong lips, rough lips, stubbled lips. Fuck, Morgan wishes he could. It hurts to watch sometimes. He craves it so bad. It's been so long since he's felt a man. Since he's touched a man. Since he's seen a man. A naked man. Fuck, try five. And they're all hot. And they're all looking at him, begging for him with their eyes. All Morgan can allow himself is a taste. But, he wants to devour the whole meal. He wants to get his face and hands messy, no napkin, no drink, no cutlery. He wants to eat and eat and eat until he's bursting. Morgan wants them all so bad. Too bad. He just wants to bury himself in the big pit of men, naked, gripping, sweaty, biting, but he can't cross that river. No matter how much he wants to. And fuck, he wants to.

They're literally all knock outs.

Joey was Greek. Like fresh off the plane Greek with a nearly expired Visa. He has this soft accent pouring from his smirking smoker's greyed lips. His skin was tanned from the constant sun of his hometown and his hazel eyes were always swimming with mischief. He was jacked from years of construction work; quick to take off his shirt (which Morgan was beyond okay with). His hands were calloused and rough. His voice was deeper than the Atlantic. He kissed like Humphrey Bogart.

Cameron was a cornfed Texas boy, running to the North to escape his right wing family. He stripped for a living. The guy could move his body like a crazy person. He gave them shows in his apartment during their celebratory parties, curling around the pole he installed in his living room. Blonde and blue eyed with bubblegum pink lips and cheekbones that could cut glass. He was a tease. All laughter and smiles and word games pouring out of his sweet southern mouth. The boy couldn't be more than twenty three years old, but he promises he's almost thirty. Bullshit.

Marcus was a smart talking Cuban-American man all slender bones and thin waist. Gay as the day is long, that boy switched his hips like Pamela Anderson, flicking his wrists and calling all of them "girl" instead of their names. He ran like a champ though. And he was a damned puppy in the sack, bending over and yelling and bouncing and begging Spanish into every thrust. He can't even kiss Morgan on the couch without dry humping him into the leather as their bearded lips pressed and swapped tongues. But, don't pull his hair. He hates that. It's "100% wavy Brazillian yaki" and the shit was expensive. Morgan pretended not to know what that was.  

Then there was Kenneth. He was biracial like Morgan was and they bonded over that surprisingly fast when he told Morgan on the field about his mom pressuring him to visit her for brunch. Morgan confessed that his mother was white, so he's heard that before and they laughed so hard they had to take a crying break at the water cooler. Kenneth kisses deep and rough. He grabs Morgan's face with his hands and presses their bodies together like he's trying to feel every inch of him against his high yellow skin. He's the only one in the group that Morgan went to see alone. He lived in the DC hood, but that was okay. Morgan was strapped. So was Kenneth, illegally of course. He's just as hard as Morgan was and they begged a bitch to try something in the street. Nobody fucked with them (or even looked their way) if they kissed outside his apartment and they liked it that way. Ken was a cook at Chilis, yeah, but his dream was to open up his own spot. He was an outrageous chef, something always on the stove when Morgan visited. They'd listen to Prince's  _Sign O' the Times_ , feed each other a meal on the couch, laugh about simple things, talk music, lick sauce from each others fingers, kiss and kiss and kiss. Morgan almost got naked with him on four separate occasions. Kenneth never asked him about his girlfriend, but he knew. He knew. When he pulled Morgan's tee shirt from his body, biting along his neck and licking firm lines down his chest. He ducked between Morgan's thighs, looking up into his eyes and asking softly if he _could_. It killed Morgan to tell him they had to stay clothed. But, he wanted to take it all off with him. He really did. Morgan could see himself falling in love with Kenneth as they rutted on the couch and kissed each other's mouths like starving men. Men.

Men. Morgan loved men. With their jawlines and broad shoulders and thick hands. Morgan loved men. With their stubble lined lips and spicy scents and greedy cocks. Morgan loved men. He didn't even realize how repressed he felt until he went three years without touching one. But, once he did, he couldn't stop. Men just plain didn't care about anything or anyone by nature. They were eager and always game for meaningless sex. Always. Especially if they liked the way you looked. 

He liked women too. Oh, he loved women. Honest. Everything about them. But, he has a craving -- a _desperation_ for that lack of expectation that's inescapable, getting worse and worse by the minute. Whenever it got too bad or he felt too pressured, he unlocked his phone and scrolled through Instagram. His DMs were packed full of Keron and his four hot available men trying to bait the "straight guy" with all they had. Morgan never had the heart to tell them he was bisexual. Maybe they'd stop running to him after he crushes their fantasy of turning him to their team. He couldn't handle it if they did. The pictures they'd send, the videos they'd take. So hot. So hot. So much hotness. So much skin. So much sin. So much muscle and hair and bareness. Such an immediate response to his every want and need. Joey was a voicemail kind of guy. He'd call Morgan and leave long, panting messages. Morgan could hear him struggling with his English as he strokes out his orgasm, whispering Morgan's name. Cameron would send videos. He'd strip his clothes off nice and slow, and by the time he was bare he'd be hard and winking at Morgan through the camera like he knew just how hot he was. Marcus was the king of the selfie. Teasing angles, perfect lighting, butt shots for days. He liked to wear lingerie. Panties and thongs and stockings and garters and skirts. He called Morgan "daddy". Kenneth was a fantastic writer. He would sit down and send out long text messages explaining what he would do in detail to Morgan's body with just the tip of his tongue. The boy was fucking talented.  But, Keron. Cute Cousin Keron? He was a jack of all trades. He had it all.

Between the five of them, Morgan had a high enough balance in his spank bank to last him the rest of his life. Instead of imagining Savannah, who always wanted to hold his hand and _talk_ after sex, or the man of his dreams that Morgan worried wouldn't even _want_ him sexually, Morgan had these five.  

He lived for their parties, watching all of these different, sexy men touching each other and looking at him with hunger in his eyes. Morgan would sit and watch, phone out with the video camera rolling and a hand in his pants. Morgan felt inadequate, he felt stifled, he felt wrong, but around them nothing mattered. And every time he felt like even remotely down, he just sent off a message. He was texting them between cases, during cases, after he gets home, in the bathroom while Savannah sleeps. He was addicted. He couldn't stop to save his life.   
  
Morgan had fallen down the damned rabbit hole and there was no getting out. It was only a matter of time before Savannah figured it out. And when she did. It was awful.  
  
He left his phone out while he was taking a shower and he must have gotten a pretty weird text, because when he got out, Savannah had cracked his passcode and was scrolling through his text messages. To her cousin. And his four new friends that they had over for lasagna last week. She found their conversations. She found a link to his Instagram. She found their DMs. Pictures, videos, wordplay, the works. And, worst of all, she found the video he took of Keron, Joey, Cameron, Marcus, and Kenneth all fucking each other from last month.  
  
Morgan had been cussed out more than enough times in his life, but never had he been cussed out with the thorough intensity in which Savannah was cussing him out. The called out their entire relationship, listed everything he had done wrong while they were together, and shoved his phone in his face. She had proof -- actual proof -- that her bisexual boyfriend fit the exact stereotype he told her that he didn't when he first came out to her. No matter what he said, she saw the truth in his excuses. She felt as if she wasn't enough. She wasn't. She felt as if Morgan wanted something she couldn't provide. He did. She felt as if Morgan settled for her. He did. She was sick and tired of feeling that way. And she was sick and tired of his lies.  
  
Savannah broke the screen on his phone. And smashed his laptop too. Just cuz.  
  
Then, she left.  
  
  
  
Morgan lay on his bed all night and called Kenneth. Kenneth's soft voice consoled him through his warring emotions of relief and depression and guilt. He invited Morgan over. Morgan declined. He didn't want to. He couldn't. Kenneth could very well become the next Savannah for him. They get along well, he's sexy, kind, and he cares about Morgan. Like he really, really cares. Which is why Morgan shouldn't have called him.

So, he called Joey.

And Joey did the trick. That smooth, slick, sexy accent as he asked what he wanted. They flirted all night and Morgan didn't think about anything but Joey's firm biceps and solid body, whispering Greeklish through the phone in between swears and threats to his roommate to κλείσε το φως goddamnit when he leaves the κουζίνα, because he doesn't pay the electric bill, Joey does. Morgan laughed. He felt a bit better. Especially when Joey started talking about the massage classes he was taking, asking if he could practice on Morgan one day. Hell. Yes. He could. Just not tonight, you know? They both have work in the morning. Speaking of, it was almost 1:00am and Joey has to be up by 4 to get to the interstate. He works the earlybird shift repaving the roads.

So, he called Keron.

Keron wasn't surprised. He knew his cousin. She was probably devastated. But, she'd get over it eventually, Keron said. Don't feel too bad, Keron said. How long did you really expect it to last, Keron said. You're in love with someone else, Keron said. Morgan wondered how he knew. Keron told him not to worry about it and asked if Morgan was cool with sending nudes now that he's not dating his cousin. Morgan rolled his eyes and took off his pants. Men.

So, Morgan sent him nudes. Whatever, right? He's single. Why not?

Fuck, now he feels cheap.

Morgan rested his head on the back of the bedframe he used to pound against the wall with Keron's cousin, lifting his cracked phone up and trying to get a decent angle. How does Cameron do it? Morgan kinda hates this. He's got so many lines on his face now. Ugh. He knows his body is slammin, yeah. But it used to be so much better. Morgan has to do a whole set every morning to keep from looking like Rossi. Morgan sent a few pictures to Keron, resting against the cold headboard, trying not to feel like shit until his alarm sounded from beside him.

It was time to get ready for work. He dressed like he always did, feeling this cold staticky feeling in the back of his head instead of sadness. His eyes hurt. His feet felt numb. But, he was good at slapping on that old plastic smile, crafted from years in the field. He's seen people do horrible shit to other people since he was young. But, this is the first time he'd ever felt like one of those people. Selfish, psychotic, obsessed with something that could only hurt the people he loved because what he wanted mattered more than their happiness. That's what he did, right? Hurt Savannah so that he could feel something meaningless.  
  
Fuck. He just wanted to feel something meaningless. Really, really meaningless.  
  
As he gripped the steering wheel of his truck, driving it out into the street on autopilot.  
  
He would give anything to be sad right now. But, he's just hungry. He wants a drink, a smoke, a pill, and freaking hell he wants.... fuck. The very thing that drove him and Savannah apart. She's out of his life now. For good. And there doesn't seem to be any chance of getting her back. But, Morgan doesn't feel anything but anger. Like he'd wasted his time pretending to be happy with her when he could have just spent the last few months at bars and gyms getting fucked up and having sex with whomever the hell he wanted to. He bought a house with her. A fucking house. Who is he Mr. Fucking Cleaver? No. Fuck this shit. He should sell the house. Get his apartment back. Some men just aren't built to settle down. Maybe Morgan's one of those men.  
  
So, he pulled into the FBI parking lot. He flashed his badge. Drove into the garage and parked on the second floor like he always does. Keys in pockets. Smiles to the desk attendant. Hallways and elevators and more hallways. And the glass door he's all but lived in since he was twenty six years old. Morgan palmed the cracked phone in his pocket as he walked up to the desk in front of the forever talkative Dr. Spencer Reid. _Him_.  
  
"Have you ever wondered what would happen to our bodies if water had the same properties as gelatin?" the kid said distractedly as he scribbled on the New York Times crossword in pen. Starting off the day with a jog, huh, Reid?  
  
Morgan said with a chuckle, tousling the young doctor's soft curly hair, "Good morning to you too." He smelled like pine vanilla.  
  
Reid's face blossomed in a smile as he looked up through his messy curly locks at Morgan, "Hi."  
  
Morgan hated it when Reid did that. Smiled like Morgan was this perfect superhero that could do no wrong. He's always looked at Morgan like that. Even after Reid found out about Morgan's arrest record, his not so secret bar affairs with lonely women, and the guy who used to touch him when he was a kid. He still looked at Morgan like he was perfect; like he couldn't mess up. Ever. And that was so much pressure. But Morgan smiled back anyway, "Hey, kiddo. How's the crossword going?"  
  
Reid grumbled, "Oh, dude. I just started. I mean I'm on 'two down' and they're hitting me with Edith Piaf trivia already."  
  
Morgan shook his head, "Poor you."  
  
Reid started to smile again, "Don't get me wrong, I've got it. I'm just saying. Obscure much."  
  
Morgan sat down on the edge of Reid's desk, watching his pretty little lips move as he talked. _Don't look at his lips, Morgan, what's wrong with you? This is what got you in this mess in the first place_ , Morgan thought to himself. Morgan nodded as if he was listening to the kid and not trying not to picture him naked. He pulled off his jacket and watched Reid's eyes travel to his bare arms before going back to his face like they always do when Morgan takes something off around him _. Is Reid sexually aware of me? No, he's not. He's not into anyone. Why would I be any different? But then again. Is he? There's no way to know for sure. I mean he knows enough about Edith Piaf not to worry about her trivia, that's pretty gay._  
  
Reid kept talking. He does this thing with his fingers when he's explaining something, it's like obscene. Morgan knows it's a nervous tick, but the longer he looks at those soft, long, pale fingers, the more he wonders how good Reid would be at hand jobs. _Probably real good. I mean, when was the last time he went on a date. The dude probably jerks it twice a day just to stay vertical. Whoa. Reid jerking it. That's probably hot. His cute little face getting all pink with a blush, his flat belly caving with deep breaths, the delicate muscles in his arms flexing as his hands keep busy under the sheets, his long eyelashes scraping his cheeks as he keeps his eyes wrenched shut in desperation as he strokes and strokes and strokes his cock. Gosh, and what if his hand goes down a little bit further. His legs parting as his fingers wander to his_ \--  
  
"--and I know she was super famous overseas for a European artist. World War II had a big impact on her fame actually, considering all of the international traveling, her music got out of the cabaret astonishingly fast. She's even still relevant today. I mean, I mentioned her and you knew exactly who she is. So, she's still a household name, which is amazing considering she died in the 60's before either of us were born. And, she recorded a bunch of music and Non is still played in modern day movies and television. If she had kids, I'll tell you what? They'd be rolling in it. That's for sure..."  
  
Morgan tilted his head to the side, giving an appropriate "mmhmm" as he wondered if Reid was a slobbery kind of blow job giver or one of those hyper focused ones that look at you way too much. Either would be okay. _Reid's lips are insane. I mean they're big and puffy and pink. And he talks a lot, I mean they can probably do some crazy shit below the belt. They'd be real hot all spit slick and red with use. And his eyes are nice and big and brown and sweet. He'd probably look up at Morgan every few moments to make sure he's sucking it right. Fuck, that would be hot. Then Reid would come up for air. And he'd straddle Morgan's lap after pushing him on the bed. They'd kiss. Morgan could put his hands in Reid's hair for longer than just the daily tousle he's allotted. Reid would touch Morgan's body with abandon. They'd keep eye contact the whole time as they fucked, fingers looped together as Reid pushed that tight ass into Morgan's hips. Then, Morgan would flip him over. Kiss down his neck. Grab his small hips. Push him into their thrusts. Look him in the eyes again and Reid would whisper_ \--  
  
"--but it's like all music at the time was recorded on those big flat records, so they'd either have to ship her music overseas for everyone else to listen to, or when military crossed lines, maybe they would buy it and bring it back. Wow. I never thought about that before. How did foreign music become big in other countries? They must have carried the music with them. That's kind of poetic now that I think about it, you know?"  
  
"Of course, man. It's crazy." Morgan nodded as he pictured Reid panting and begging under him. _Hair even messier than it usually is. Bite marks and hickeys littering his skin. Neck and chest flushed a soft pink. Those nails running down Morgan's back. His moans escaping through bitten lips and rough gasps of passion. Yeah. Yeah. He'd take dick like a champ, that's for sure. After stretching him out. Morgan doesn't want Reid to do it. He wants to. The boy's hole is probably real cute too. Morgan would eat him out. He wouldn't eat a lot of dudes out, but he just wants to bury his face in that fat booty of Reid's and just lick and lick and lick until his tongue cramps up. Then he wants to fuck him so hard, Reid cums in French. Sweet fuck, he wants to make Reid cum. It's probably so cute. He'd be whining for Morgan to fuck him harder and harder until the pounding of Morgan's headboard pisses off his neighbors. Then, he'd arch his back. He'd bite his lip. He'd gasp. He'd hold his breath and let it go fast as the orgasm snaps hard like a rubber band popping loose. And he'd just cry out, "Yes! Yes! Morgan, I love you--"_  
  
_Whoa._  
  
_What?_  
  
_Reid loving him? No. No, no, no. None of that, Morgan. Snap out of it. This is Reid he's thinking about. Reid! Morgan doesn't want Reid to love him. He's such a nice, sweet kid. He deserves some cute, dorky chick in Peter Pan collars that loves everything he does. He deserves kids and retirement and happiness. Not some forty three year old loser who can't stay in a relationship without his wandering eyes ruining everything. He deserves love. Morgan doesn't. But, he can't stop remembering how it felt. Imagining Reid's lips forming "I love you". Not just during sex, but in bed with the afterglow flushing up his porcelain skin. The morning after when they wake up tangled in each other's warm bodies. In the shower as they kiss gently under the spray. On the counter while Morgan makes him laugh as he brushes his teeth. During breakfast with his mismatched socked feet kicking Morgan's shin gently under the table. In the car on the way to work while they argue about the fastest route. In the elevator up to the bullpen. In between a kiss before they head out to chase down an unsub. Every day. Every hour. So that Morgan never forgets. Yeah. Reid seemed like the type to do that._

Morgan remembers just a few weeks ago when he admitted to Reid how he felt. Well, kind of. Morgan couldn't really make himself spit it out. The case was rough. Morgan had to jump in to keep him alive. Fuck, Reid doesn't value his life for shit, and he should. He needs to. He has to. Without him, Morgan... he'd... ugh. He doesn't know what he would become. Every time Reid is in trouble, Morgan can't keep his head. And not in an acceptable "I hope he's okay" way, like it's really bad. Morgan breaks things. He makes threats. Dark threats. He has no problem trading someone else's life for Reid's, hell, he'd trade his own. He doesn't even know how many times he told an unsub to take him instead. Morgan wouldn't do that shit for anyone. No one else on his team, that's for sure. Maybe Garcia, but that's because she's like a sister to him. Reid? He's something different. And if he would just fucking stop fucking putting himself in the fucking crossfire for one fucking minute, Morgan could figure out what it is.

Reid refused to be taken care of. Fucking refused. It was infuriating. Morgan thought he'd have to physically drag Reid into his home after the case, but Reid took one look at him and Savannah and his face fell in a way that made Morgan feel like he'd hurt much more spending time with them then walking home alone. But, he had to know. At this point, Morgan and Savannah were still together, yeah. But, that was meaning less and less to Morgan. And Reid melted in his arms. Morgan felt his lips against his neck in the biting cold DC winter air. Reid snuggled into him like he was the only thing in the stressful world that could relax him. And Morgan's voice caught in his throat. Reid had to hear it. He had to know. He deserved to know. But, it was so hard. He struggled out, "I just... um..." and through some celestial miracle, Reid heard him. Morgan felt the weight lift from him. He didn't have to say it, but he tried, "You know?" 

The young doctor snuggled further into his embrace and answered shakily, "I know. I _know_."

Morgan breathed out in relief, "Good. Because I mean it."

Fuck, Morgan meant it. He really did. He loved him. _Reid_. But, Reid deserved... he deserved so much better. So, Morgan walked back into that house, sat beside his girlfriend like he didn't just confess his love for another man just outside. He did though. He loved Reid. He loved Reid. He loved Reid. He loved Reid. He loved Reid. He loved Reid. He loved Reid. Morgan couldn't stop thinking about what he said. And Reid's smile after they parted. He opened his mouth like he was going to say it too, but instead he smiled. Softly, their eyes connected. Reid could have gone in for the kiss right there too, he fucking could've. But, did he? No. Because Reid didn't want to. And Morgan couldn't do it! Hell no. Just the idea of Reid makes him a coward. Morgan'll smooch all the Keron's and Joey's and Cameron's and Marcus's and Kenneth's of the world like it's no big. But kissing Reid? That's a big step. A scary step. Like "things will change forever and when Morgan inevitably fucks everything up, Reid will never even want to look at him again" scary, which would total Morgan's heart. Utterly and completely. And hurting Reid? It would probably kill him. Both of them, actually. God, breaking Reid's heart would make him a bigger monster than the ones they hunt at work.  
  
Morgan couldn't hide his frown at that thought, even though it was random and weird and uncalled for and my God is Reid still talking about Edith Piaf? That's so cute. Annoying, but cute. Like it always is. Like it always has been. He butted in, "Do you think we're going to get a case today?"  
  
Reid looked up from the crossword puzzle, barely even noticing that he'd been cut off. Gosh, sometimes he just talks and talks without even paying attention. Just stream of consciousness. What an asshole. What a cute, pretentious, adorable asshole. Reid spoke simply, brown eyes on Morgan's, "I'm not sure. JJ's not in yet. Something about one of her boys making a mess in the kitchen."  
  
"So, her sons or Will?" Morgan joked.   
  
Reid laughed, face lighting up in that annoyingly attractive goofy grin, "Oh, gosh. My money's on the new baby, but you never know, Will might not like mashed bananas as much as the next guy."  
  
Morgan watched Reid laugh, saying just as honestly as he usually does, "You're so damned pretty today, you know that? Well, you're pretty all the time, but sometimes it's like 'wow'." Morgan chuckled, adding, "'Look at that face,'  am I right? Hoo."  
  
Reid lowered his head and looked away like he always does, ignoring Morgan's statement after years and years of hearing the same thing from him, "How about you check in with Garcia? It's been like five minutes and she hasn't seen her 'Chocolate Thunder' yet."  
  
Morgan stood up, winking at Reid before turning to glance at her office, "That sounds so weird coming out of your mouth, kid."  
  
Reid smirked, "What, I can't call you 'Chocolate Thunder'?"  
  
Morgan raised an eyebrow, "You can, but it's not genuine and you don't mean it, so it doesn't sound right. Find a good nickname and I'll tell you what I think, Pretty Boy."  
  
Reid folded his arms in his stupid grey cardigan, "I never sanctioned 'Pretty Boy'."  
  
Morgan walked in the direction of the bullpen stairs, calling out behind him, "But you gotta admit, it fits!"  
  
Reid called back, "Whatever!"  
  
As Morgan headed up the steps, he realized Reid was right. He did need to see Garcia. But not for her benefit. For his. He needs advice. He just broke up with his long-term girlfriend. What's the next step? Meeting up with Keron and finally sealing the deal with him? Yeah. Keron would love to sleep with him. It would be easy. It would almost be too easy.  
  
Morgan's a free man for the first time in three years. He should celebrate. He should go out and get shitfaced and flirt with some strangers. He should be slapping some asses and staring at as many titties as he can find. And he should fuck Joey. And Cameron. And Marcus. And Kenneth. Because he can. Because he's single.  
  
He broke Savannah's heart. Shattered it all over the floor. So, why does he feel so relieved?  
  
When Morgan finally made it up the short flight of steps and at the door of Garcia's lair, he knocked lightly, "Hey, there, Princess. You in there?"  
  
"Of course. But, first you must answer my riddles three." Garcia said sternly from the other side of the door.  
  
Morgan chuckled, "Fine. Shoot."  
  
Garcia asked, "How many men did you fuck behind Savannah's back."  
  
Morgan nodded easily. Oh. He forgot Savannah and Garcia were friends. And Savannah probably told Garcia everything she found on Morgan's phone. It was bad. Morgan had a very long shower. She'd seen some serious crap. Crap Morgan would have taken to his grave. Morgan answered the question, "None."  
  
"That better not be bullshit." Garcia asked a second question, "How many men did you _sext_ behind Savannah's back?"  
  
Morgan sighed deeply, counting as quickly as he could and giving a defeated, "...five."  
  
"Wow. You are literally the worst." Garcia asked her third and final question, "What did I tell you before you kissed Cute Cousin Keron?"  
  
Morgan replied, "Savannah loves me and if I fuck this up chasing after some tail, you're going to hit me in the twins."  
  
"Correct." Garcia said simply, "You may enter."

Morgan asked worriedly, "Are you going to hit me in the twins?"

Garcia replied as Morgan opened the door to her dark, plushie filled lair, "Depends on how close to me you stand, because right now, you're not worth the effort of wheeling myself any quotient of distance."

Morgan closed the door behind him, folding his arms against his chest as he looked her in her furrowed blue eyes. Oh, she was mad. And most of it was because Morgan stopped telling her shit. She got all judgey and took Savannah's side on everything, and Morgan's main prerogative was kissing as many dudes as he could while he was in a relationship with a woman. He knew it was wrong. He just didn't want to hear it every five seconds. So, she knew virtually nothing about how much he started hanging out with Keron outside of joining the football team. She also knew virtually nothing about how friendly the football team gets in the showers. Which is best answered by "hella". So, Morgan stated simply, "Let me explain though."

Garcia rolled her eyes, "The only reason I'm giving you the time of day is because Savi told me you had pictures of naked dudes on your phone and they were all hot."

Morgan grinned, "I French kissed every single one of them within an inch of their _lives_."

Garcia fanned herself, "Hoo, baby. Pictures. I need them."

"She cracked my screen pretty bad, so I'm going to send them to your phone," Morgan added, reaching into his pocket and tried to see through the spider cracks, "And there were orgies. So many orgies. You don't know what it was not to join in. But, they let me watch. They let me _film it_ , baby girl."

Garcia's jaw dropped, "Whoa, whoa, whoa. I'm going to need some backstory. How did you end up in Gangster's Paradise and where can I get in the gate?"

Morgan shrugged, tapping away on his cracked screen sending pictures and videos to Garcia's phone, "I'll tell it all, I don't give a fuck at this point. My girlfriend knows about it, so what's the worst that can happen? She breaks up with me? Oh, right. She did that already."

Garcia glanced at her phone as it started pinging, "Oh. My. God. These guys are unreal. Look at this blue eyed one? Wow."

Morgan smirked, "That's Cam. He's a stripper. And a burlesque dancer on the weekends."

Garcia looked back up at Morgan, "Shut. Up."

Morgan nodded, "For real."

"And this caramel colored god with the locs?" Garcia asked.

Morgan smiled wistfully, "Kenneth. He's a chef. And a poet. And really good with his tongue.  He sucked me off through my sweatpants and I thought I was going to pass out."

Garcia narrowed her eyes at Morgan, "I thought you didn't fuck them?"

Morgan raised his hands in honesty, "I didn't! Pants on. With all of them. I swear. Underwear with Kenneth like once."

Garcia lifted her phone to her eyes, scrolling and stopping, "Ooh, this sexy little papi with trim beard? Mama likey. His eyebrows are on point."

Morgan chimed in, "Marcus. He's into--"

Garcia gasped, "Oh, my god! Are those panties?!"

Morgan nodded, "Yep."

Garcia gasped again, "And he calls you 'Daddy'?"

Morgan nodded, "Yep."

Garcia gasped a third time, "Holy fuck, he's tied up with stockings and... is that a butt plug with a tail attached to it?"

Morgan explained, "He's really kinky."

"No shit, Sherlock. Where's the fifth guy? Because I'm assuming the fourth is--yep. There's Keron. Shirtless again. That sexy little dark chocolate jaguar." Garcia giggled, scrolling through with glee, "And here we are. Mystery Guy Cinco, or should I say Chanel no. 5 with biceps for days? You have like two pictures of him? What gives?"

Morgan said simply, "He's a voicemail kind of guy. He's from Greece and isn't 100% fluent yet, so his accent is obscene. When he's getting off, he like melds into Greeklish and it's disgustingly sexy."

Garcia shook her head, "Wow. You lucky bitch... ooh. A video. Why's it so dark?"

Morgan started to laugh, "Because all of them are naked on one bed."

Garcia paused, "So... these guys know each other? And they're friends? And they all fuck?"

Morgan nodded, "Yeah."

Garcia shrugged, "I'm less mad at you, because keeping it in your pants around all of this hotness mustn't have been easy. Your moral ground was shaky, but you didn't have sex with them even though they were all trying their damndest to get you in bed. I almost respect you again."

Morgan chuckled, "Almost?"

Garcia replied, "If I were you, I would have taken off work this morning. This is the first day you're allowed to touch all of them as much as you want to. I'd be under Chanel number 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5 by now. What's stopping you?"

Morgan sighed angrily, "My civic duty as an upstanding enforcer of the law. I can't skip out on work to have sex. That's unprofessional."

"Whatever." Garcia rolled her eyes, "So, how's lover boy doing with all of this?"

Morgan leaned further against the door, shoving his phone back into his pocket, "Who?"

Garcia answered, "Spencer. You professed your undying love for him over a month ago and you're freshly single. He's probably creaming his tighty whiteys with excitement right now."

Morgan rolled his eyes slowly, "I never should have told you that."

Garcia thrust her arms out and sang, "But, it's so cute! You hugged him and told him you loved him and he was like 'Oh, Morgan, run away with me'!"

Morgan corrected her, "He did not say that and I did not tell him that I loved him. I just hinted and he got it. That's all."

Garcia shook her head, "I saw that hug through the window. I was sure he was going to kiss you."

Morgan scoffed, "No he wasn't.... was he?"

Garcia deadpanned, "He won't hug anybody. Like ever. The dude doesn't even shake hands. And when other people hug him he reacts like a turtle who's head was just touched.  It's awful. And that boy snuggled up to you with the face all up in the jacket--"

Morgan interrupted her, "But--"

Garcia continued, "And the lips all up on the neck--"

Morgan complained, "Pen--"

Garcia finished, "And the arms wrapped full on around you. And his hands did the clingy thingy! Like he locked his hands and pushed you two together as much as he could! This is the guy who doesn't touch _anyone_ , Derek, and he melted in your arms like butter in a microwave after you told him you _loved him_. Tell me that's not gay."

Morgan sighed, tossing his hands up in the air, "Fine! Whatever! It was kind of gay of him, yes. Especially after I told him how I feel about him. It felt reciprocated, you know?! I felt like he was going to say it back, alright?! And he didn't. His face got close to me when he pulled out of the hug and I swore to God he was going to kiss me. But, he didn't. It's been thirteen years of this, Garcia! I confessed! I told him. He knew. And he didn't say shit back to me except 'I know' even though I _knew_ he wanted to answer with acceptance, do you see how much that fucking hurts?! He didn't say it because he knows I'm a piece of shit! He knows I'd hurt him! He knows we are awful for each other and he knows he deserves better!"

Garcia gave Morgan a crushed look, "Derek, don't."

"It's true! I'm a liar. And a cheat. And I suck. And he's just... perfect. I don't deserve him. If I did, he would have kissed me and I have no idea how his lips taste." Morgan ran a hand down his face, "And I... fucking asshole I am, just walked right back inside and sat next to my girlfriend. Like nothing was wrong. Like I didn't just tell the man I lo..." Morgan closed his eyes and stood against the door for a moment before reaching in his pocket for his phone, "You know what? You're right? I'm single. I'm free. I'm going to text Keron. See if we can meet up after work. And you know what?"

Garcia asked quietly, "What?"

Morgan said sharply, "I'm going to suck his cock the second I see him."

Garcia's eyebrows raised up her forehead, "Whoa. Okay. You gonna... you gonna tell Reid you're single?"

"He can profile it out of me for all I fucking care." Morgan wrenched the door handle open.

Garcia tutted, "Wow. No need to be a dick."

"I _am_ a dick." Morgan hissed, "Thanks for reminding me."

Garcia called to him, "Work on it, big boy. Deep breaths."

Morgan waved as he left the room, "Yep."


	3. Hotline Bling

Keron answered the text message in a few hours.

Up to his ears in paperwork, Morgan nearly forgot he texted him. He was reviewing every single one of the BAU's case file from this month to make sure there were no errors before they were sent into the federal filing system's archives. It was probably the worst part about his job. So, Morgan read and read and read, tapping his pen out to the oldies station blaring TLC from the corner of his big mahogany desk. 

Then, his phone vibrated. And Morgan remembered. Oh! Keron. Sex with Keron. That's probably going to be a thing that happens tonight. Morgan reached over his pile of paperwork and retrieved his phone, tapping the passcode into the severely cracked screen. When he opened it, he continued their conversation.

**Mon, Jan 25, 10:35am**

 

 

 

 

> Me: heyy whats up man what are you doing tonight
> 
> Keron: yo man im at work. imma be interviewing two possible new managers tonight but i should be done by 9 if thats still cool
> 
> Keron: wanna link up with me and the guys?? grab a beer?
> 
> Me: oh ya def
> 
> Keron: good lol kenny wont shut up about you now that you guys are a thing so maybe getting you two in the same room together will chill him out
> 
> Me: huh
> 
> Me: me and kenny arent a thing! what are you talking about???
> 
> Keron: youre not?
> 
> Me: nah man we're not
> 
> Keron: oh
> 
> Me: what do you mean "oh"
> 
> Keron: i just figured you know. since you and savi are done.....
> 
> Me: since me and savi are done what??
> 
> Keron: well he was the first person you called last night. and he told me yall was on the phone for hours.
> 
> Keron: plus you were always over his crib. you didnt hang with me and the rest of the guys like that
> 
> Keron: yall are always boo lovin too with the extra long hugs at practice and the "how are you, ken"? you say his name all slow like "kennnn"
> 
> Me: bullshit no i dont
> 
> Keron: oh yeah? 
> 
> Keron: he told me that you let him blow you
> 
> Me: fucking kenneth
> 
> Keron: youRE FUCKING KENNETH>??./???
> 
> Me: NO MAN. NO.
> 
> Me: i meant like "rrrrrh. kenneth. im mad at you, kenneth."
> 
> Keron: oh
> 
> Me: and kenneth and i its nothing really
> 
> Me: we're friends. hes good people. we get along real well. and he invites me over to actually chill. like we listen to music and watch movies and cook and sometimes make out its no big. the blow job was a one time thing. and it was over the pants man i dont even think that counts for anything
> 
> Keron: it dont
> 
> Me: hence my surprise at "me + kenny = thing"
> 
> Keron: yo man i think kenny likes you. like he wants to be your bae or somethin.
> 
> Me: yeah no shit
> 
> Keron: and you........
> 
> Me: im looking for casual only
> 
> Me: and now that me and savi are over im going full on with you guys
> 
> Keron: for real>??
> 
> Me: yeah fam im in. no more pushing yall away. i swear. imma take this breakup and go hard with it. i mean im free right? why not bury myself in hot sexy sweaty men???
> 
> Keron: miracles do happen
> 
> Me: lol 
> 
> Keron: marcus called dibs on you like a whole month ago tho
> 
> Me: for real
> 
> Keron: yeah dude. he called it the second i brought you to practice
> 
> Keron: he pulled me aside and was like "imma hop on that mixed dick the first chance i get" those were his words exactly. then he enacted the dibs. i cant fuck with dibs man its a real thing.
> 
> Me: fuckkk. no. man. not marcus. the first guy i fuck in three years cant be marcus.
> 
> Keron: thems the breaks man. he. has. dibs.
> 
> Me: see dude, the thing is.... hes a little much... i dont think i can handle him by himself
> 
> Keron: no one can. the bitch is crazy
> 
> Keron: but im telling you first hand, he rides it like a goddamn award winning rodeo cowboy
> 
> Me: sure looked like it at cameron's
> 
> Keron: man i triple dog dare you not to cum in the first two minutes
> 
> Me: please he cant be that good
> 
> Keron: when he crawls over to my side of the bed dude im straight up meditating until he gets off me because theres no way id last the orgy
> 
> Me: bullshit
> 
> Keron: i will put fucking money on this.
> 
> Me: 50
> 
> Keron: fuck that 200
> 
> Me: damn son. you sure???
> 
> Keron: ive never been more sure of anything in my life
> 
> Me: im a little scared.
> 
> Keron: fucking should be
> 
> Me: ughh
> 
> Me: ard ill see you tonight??
> 
> Keron: yeah, you will.  HMU when youre ready to go. i'll get marcus and cam. joeys obsessed with his ducati, so im not even going to attempt to pick him up.
> 
> Me: lol ok
> 
> Keron: and..... youll just swing by and pick up kenneth kbyeee
> 
> Me: no
> 
> Me: im not picking up kenneth 
> 
> Me: keron
> 
> Me: KERON
> 
> Me: fuck man........
> 
>  

And, that's how the day went. JJ ended up staying home. Henry got the sniffles and the baby ended up throwing more mashed bananas and she couldn't leave Will alone to deal with all of that. Turns out, the baby had an ear infection, which was why he was acting out so much. Yeah. Ouch. So, after a ridiculous amount of running to and from the doctor's office and the drug store, JJ had well earned her day off. And since they hadn't received any urgent calls, the team could actually leave by four.

Morgan jogged out of his office with glee. Yes. He was about to get his. And it was going to be epic. If he wasn't walking funny into work on Tuesday, then he didn't party hard enough. Morgan strolled over to Garcia's office and knocked on the window before popping his head in the door, "Should I wear my red sweater or my black tee shirt?"

Garcia clicked around on her computers, closing down her system before standing up and grabbing her purse, "Where are you going tonight?"

Morgan shrugged, "Drinks I think."

Garcia asked, "How hard are you going with the liquor?"

Morgan smirked, "Hard as it gets, baby."

Garcia nodded distractedly, "You overheat when you shoot Tequila, so tee shirt."

Morgan grinned, "Thanks."

She clicked over to the door in her cute yellow kitten heels and let Morgan get the door for her. Garcia held out her hand expectantly and Morgan lifted his arm so he could escort her down the stairs, "I am one car ride away from Netflix and wine."

Morgan smiled as he reached the bottom of the stairs, asking, "With Kevin?"

Garcia chuckled, "Please! With my cat. Aunt Flow is visiting and she's in need of some R&R."

Morgan shuddered, "I'm so sorry."

"The cramps are the worst of it, so two Midol and I'm smooth sailin'." Garcia said simply as they walked across the bullpen, waving to Lewis, "So, which boy is on the menu tonight, my beautiful bisexual baby doll?"

Morgan nudged her with a wide smile as they weaved through the desks, "All of them. But the 'cute little papi with the eyebrows' called dibs on me, so he's first I guess."

Garcia giggled, "You are about to get eaten alive."

Morgan smirked, pushing the glass door open for his best friend, "I sure hope so."

Garcia pointed a finger at him, "Don't forget. Lots of lubricant. Silicone based for efficiency. And _condoms_. A bowl full if you're tasting every hottie at the helm. Boy, if you don't use protection, I won't have to hit you in the twins. The chlamydia will."

Morgan patted her wrist as he made his way to the elevator, "Mama, I'll be fine. This isn't my first rodeo. I know what kind of armor to wear in battle."

Garcia let out a smile, "Well, you'd better hope it's bulletproof."

Hitting the downward arrow in front of the elevator, Morgan pondered, "I don't know. I might let my freak flag fly and let Keron--"

Garcia stopped him with a firm hand, "No. Do you know where he's been?"

Morgan added, "I don't.  But I definitely want _you know what_ on my face, if you catch my drift."

Garcia shook her head disapprovingly, "You know what isn't cute on a mug as chiseled as yours? Herpes. Wrap it up. No ifs, ands, or _you know what_ s."

Morgan sighed as the elevator dinged to their floor, the double doors opening wide for them. Garcia took the first step and Morgan followed her in, pressing the DOOR CLOSE button. The doors began folding in and at the last minute, a pale hand shot in and caught the door, pushing them back open. 150 pounds of tall, blushing, slightly erratic genius bounded in, clutching the everpresent satchel bag to his side. He pushed his wild hair out of his face and jammed the DOOR CLOSE button again.

Garcia chimed in with an eyebrow wiggle, "Ooh, someone looks nice!"

Reid fiddled with his hands, leaning back against the side wall of the elevator as the doors closed once more, "Who? Me? No, I just.... threw this on. You know?"

Garcia giggled, gesturing to his clothes, "I don't! Who is all of this for?"

Reid looked away, blushing again and fixing his hair with his long fingers, "Nobody. I'm... I have somewhere to be, so... I just thought I'd... spruce up just a little."

Garcia asked with a big grin, "Is that cologne?"

Reid said worriedly, "Aftershave. Is it too much?"

Garcia shook her head, patting his hand with a soft smile, "Of course not. You're the dreamiest, kiddo. What do you think, Morgan?"

Morgan's brain had currently detached itself. He was staring as Reid with his mouth slightly open and his eyes blinking slowly. It was only a matter of time before drool became an issue. He couldn't stop looking. Reid was... he looked... he was so... wow. If Morgan thought Reid was cute in his cardigans and blazers and vests, God help him tonight. Reid was in a dark blue Henley on top of a white one with the buttons undone enough for his collarbone to peak through. His sleeves were rolled up halfway up his forearms and he was wearing jeans. Jeans! Morgan didn't even knew Reid owned jeans. But, he does. And they're dark. And bootcut And they fit. Well. He wasn't even wearing sneakers like he usually does. He's wearing Bullboxers. Brown ones.

He looked like a goddamned model. With that hair and those clothes. Gosh, look at that body. Morgan didn't even think the kid was that built. I mean, don't get him wrong. The kid is still a twig. But there are actual bulges in the cotton where his biceps are. His stomach was flat and his chest was actually a little broader than Morgan thought it would be. And those _thighs_. Jesus. Look at them.

All that bared skin on his forearms. He has hair on his forearms. It's not a lot, but it's golden brown and soft looking. Wow.

Morgan brought his hand to his lips. Oh, shit. That drool legit almost came out. And Morgan is definitely getting aroused. Garcia nudged him and Morgan asked quietly, "Whuh?"

Garcia glared, "Tell Reid how he looks."

Morgan stammered out, "Y-you... I... it's-s-s... you've got the... the... I mean... denim, is a choice that... on you, it... it's a choice. Th-the big choice, you know? Denim or no denim? --not that you should do the no denim thing! Because jeans... they're... good. It's new. It's nice. I... wow, this elevator is way slower than usual, isn't it? I mean, Jesus. Hurry up! You know?"

Reid worried, "Are you feeling okay? Do you have a Vitamin C deficiency again? Because I have an orange in my bag."

Morgan shook his head, "No! I'm fine."

"It's alright! Really. I packed two of them just in case. You need this, because you don't drink enough juice. I don't know how many times I have to tell you," Reid unbuckled his bag and rifled through it, searching until he found a plastic baggie with two big oranges in it. He pulled it out and something fell to the floor as he struggled with the Ziploc portion, ripping it open and handing Morgan a fruit.

Garcia giggled, pointing to the floor, "I guess that answers the boxers or briefs question."

Reid panicked and dropped to the floor, swiping up the red cloth so quickly Morgan could barely even tell what it was before he shoved it back in his bag, clipping it shut as he stood in the elevator blushing a pale red and clutching the other orange for dear life, "You guys didn't see that."

Garcia raised an eyebrow, "Why would you bring a pair of underwear to work?"

Reid shook his head, "I didn't."

"What? So that was your only pair--" Garcia scoffed and paused when she read Reid's stifled expression, screeching out with a laugh, "Dr. Spencer Reid! Are you going commando right now?!"

If Morgan thought his brain detatched earlier, he was sorely mistaken. Because now, his mind was blank. And definitely aroused.

Reid buried his face in his hands, an orange covered by his frizzy curls, "I know! I know! It was stupid! I'm going to put them back on!"

Garcia cackled, "No! Leave them off! It's fine! It's hot! Right, Morgan?"

Morgan's mind was still blank. He was processing. Processing. Processing. No, this isn't real. Processing. Processing. Reid is not wearing underwear. Processing. Processing. Processing. _If you think the words "easy access" in this elevator, just hand yourself over to the dark side, Derek._ Processing. Processing. Morgan let out a confused grunt. Yes. That's an answer.

Reid sighed behind his hands, "Great. Now I've grossed out Morgan."

Morgan shook his head quickly, trying to communicate just how wrong Reid was. Hopefully that came through. 

Suddenly the elevator lurched and Reid's tiny body almost fell directly over. But, Morgan wasn't thinking. He was acting on instinct. He grabbed Reid's soft, pale hand and tugged him back to standing, but not before surprising Reid, tossing him in the other direction, which was on top of Morgan. Morgan, who now had a lapful of the "scantily clad" doctor who was definitely not wearing underwear, felt it through his jeans. That was definitely a penis. And at the absolute worst time to be aroused, Morgan was aroused. There Reid was, legs tangled in Morgan's wearing nothing but denim as Morgan's half hard on pressed into his perfect thighs. 

"Oh, my God! Not grossed out! Got it!" Reid pushed away from Morgan brashly, fixing his clothes and hair nervously until the elevator dinged, the double doors opening, "This was probably the worst elevator ride of my life. Good night."

Garcia added, "What about the time you and Morgan almost died?"

Reid rushed out of the elevator towards the parking lot, " _This_ was definitely worse!"

Garcia called out, "Reid."

Reid added, "I said 'good night'!"

Morgan took Garcia's arm once again, leading her into the parking lot before saying softly, "My... stiffness... touched his leg just then."

Garcia gasped, "You got hard in the elevator?! Dude! Not the time!"

"You think I don't know that?!" Morgan shook his head, "Look at Reid! Look at him! And he wasn't wearing underwear. And I _felt_ his penis. I _felt_ it. Kill me, baby girl. I don't want this world anymore."

Garcia reached forward and smacked his chest, "Look. That boy is definitely going on a date. Definitely. What are you going to do about it?"

"Well, let's see. He wore jeans and took off his underwear for someone who's not me. And then said 'this was the worst elevator ride of his life' after feeling my dick." Morgan reasoned, "I'm going to go with "Not Shit" for 500, Alex."

"Fine, you stupid baby." Garcia groused as they made their way to her Camero, "...wanna know what kind of underwear they were?"

Morgan glanced at her, "Desperately."

Garcia answered, "Trunks."

Morgan growled loudly, " _God. Fucking. Dammit!"_

* * *

Morgan took a long shower. A really long one. He shaved in places he hasn't shaved in months, scrubbed things he forgot he had, and then. He got dusted off his long nozzled plastic blast from the past. And he got real friendly with it. Just in case. Gosh. He forgot that douching kind of hurt. Not a lot. But you know, enough to be weird. And, now. He can't eat for six hours. Just in case. Awesome. It'll be nothing but water and alcohol from here on out. More focus on the water than the alcohol for now though. Gotta stay hydrated.

He had an hour or so until he had to pick up Kenneth. He said he'd swing by around 7:45pm even though he knows they don't have to be at the bar until nine. Why? Because Marcus can't enact the dibs if he ain't there. And Morgan? Well, Morgan's got a few plans for Kenneth. He knows he's not trying to date Kenneth or anything. Hell no. He just got out of a relationship and he hopes to stay out of one for a long time. Especially after getting so harshly blown off by Reid. It doesn't look like the one he wants will be around for him. So, everything from here on out will be casual. Casual dates, casual drinks, and a metric ton of casual sex. Morgan's about to have the best night of his life. So, he lay on his bed, relaxed, turned up some sexy tunes to get himself motivated. Then, he got out some lube and went to work on his meticulously clean body. Just in case. 

It's been a little bit since Morgan's been so exploratory. Unless he was alone, he didn't really get past one digit. But, here he was, three deep. Down to the knuckle, searching for his sweet spot and when he found it... yes. Yes. Morgan's set his mind on it. He's getting fucked tonight. It's happening. It has to happen. Morgan reached into his toy drawer beside the bed and pulled out the plug he told Savannah he used on adventurous girls and jammed it inside himself. Oh, fuck. That felt awesome. Morgan turned the vibrating dial on the base of the toy and sunk into the buzzing pleasure, imagining Joey whispering and biting at his ear, Cameron palming down his chest, Kenneth licking at his neck, Marcus bouncing on his cock and Keron fucking him senseless. Morgan's back arched as he came, foot trailing up the sheets as he wet his chest up with globs of release.

Looks like he'll need another shower.

It was 7:50 on the dot when Morgan pulled up to Kenneth's place, parking on the street. There wasn't really anywhere else to go considering he lived in connected developments. He texted Kenneth when he got there, but he didn't need to. The front door opened immediately and there stood Kenneth. He was wearing one of those stupid Polos.  Morgan hates Polos. He unlocked the door and locked it right back up, glad he got the security feature. A couple of kids skateboarded across the side walk as Morgan tried to make his way across and Kenneth watched, leaning against the door casually as his long light locs fell into his face, "What took you so long, dog?"

Morgan answered as he opened the steel gate and closed it behind him, "Traffic."

Kenneth chuckled, "It always is. Come here."

Morgan made his way up the three steps leading up to the apartment and fell into Kenneth's large, warm arms, "Good evening, sexy."

Kenneth pressed a kiss to Morgan's shoulder, "Fucking gentleman, you are."

Morgan leaned out of the hug and Kenneth grabbed his face, pulling him in for a long, slow kiss. When they separated, Kenneth smiled, "Mouthwash? Ooh. You busting out Crest on me?"

"You wish." Morgan nuzzled into Kenneth's neck, passing out soft kisses against his skin, "How about I kiss on you a little bit, and we take advantage of my newborn freedom?"

Kenneth smirked, "Oh, so no more licking you through your shorts, huh?"

Morgan pushed Kenneth bodily into the house and closed the door behind him, locking it as Kenneth slammed him into the door, pulling Morgan's tee shirt over his head and jingling around with the belt. Kenneth whispered, "What can I have now, then?" as he swooped his hair out of the way with his large, golden hand. Morgan fell to his knees, unbucking Kenneth's black leather belt and shoving all clothes out of the way, putting his mouth on his thick legs as Kenneth stepped out of them. Morgan opened his mouth, sticking out of his tongue and Kenneth shoved his hard on right in there, smirking down at him as Morgan got to work. Kenneth made breathy sounds, cupping Morgan's face and biting his lip and watching Morgan intently, nodding every few moments before asking, "Can I?'

"Yeah, baby, on my face," Morgan rasped out before diving back in, completely ignoring what Garcia said. He lent a hand to Kenneth, stroking his length until he felt a wet splash on his cheek. Morgan closed his eyes instinctively, smiling with upturned lips as Kenneth wetted them down with a soft begging breath of Morgan's name. Morgan licked his lips and grinned, looking up at Kenneth with wet eyelashes, "So, was I worth the wait?"

Kenneth laughed, yanking Morgan up by the arm and tugging him up to his couch, "Get the fuck over here, pretty boy."

Morgan's smile faltered as he heard the nickname flow out of Kenneth's lips, his heart slowing in his chest as he followed him across the rug to the couch, "Wait, what did you call me?"

Kenneth tugged Morgan around and shoved him onto the couch playfully, "What, so you can say it and I can't? How's that fair?"

Morgan asked, "I've called you that before?"

Kenneth rolled his eyes, "Yeah, when we kiss. You call me that all the time. Don't act dumb. Come here. Let me give you yours, alright?"

"Alright. I won't complain about that. But... how about we don't say that, okay?" Morgan asked as Kenneth straddled Morgan's waist, kissing down his neck softly.

Kenneth whispered into his neck, "Fine, whatever. It's not even a big deal, man, calm down."

As Kenneth kissed him, Morgan closed his eyes again. He felt hands on his body, yanking at his pants. Kisses on his chest, a beardless chin on his stomach. Morgan nodded as he felt pale hands scratch his sides, pink lips pecking Morgan's collarbone, brown curls brushing Morgan's shoulder. Reid kissed his body, worshiping him before shoving a hand into his shorts. A soft, delicate hand. Blue Henleys. Denim jeans. No underwear. Holy shit. He was wearing that right now, wasn't he? So hot. So soft. He's stroking Morgan harder and harder with biceps Morgan didn't even know he had.

Suddenly, no one was touching him. Morgan opened his eyes, looking up at Kenneth with confusion, "What?"

Kenneth hissed, "Seriously? Are we doing the 'pretty boy' thing, or aren't we?"

Morgan added, "We aren't."

Kenneth rolled his eyes, "Then, why did you _just_ say it?"

Morgan sighed, "Because I'm an idiot, okay? It's one of those things. How about I say it and you don't?"

"Whatever gets you off, man." Kenneth said with a smirk, kissing Morgan's neck, "I'll be your pretty boy."

Morgan shuddered. No. Kenneth is not Morgan's pretty boy. Kenneth will never be Morgan's pretty boy. But, you know what he is? Good at hand jobs.

* * *

When Morgan and Kenneth pulled up to the bar, they were sated and snuggly and definitely late. They strode into the bar together, fingers locked at their waists and the second they got there, they heard a cackle, "Ooh, girl! Guess who decided to show their slutty little cum stained faces tonight?!"

Marcus.

It was only a moment before they were barreled down in a hug from the already sloppily drunk Cuban. Marcus smacked Jager drizzled kisses on their lips and grabbed their shirts, dragging them over to the table their crew owned down. Morgan and Kenneth allowed it, waving to the table of men and passing out hugs and handshakes as Joey poured them two pints of beer from their tables pitcher. Keron glanced down at Morgan and Kenneth's hands, noting that they were still holding each other by the fingers, and raised an eyebrow at Morgan before stating, "So! It has come to my attention that our glorious stallion of a straight boy is now and possibly forever... girlfriend-less!"

Joey, Cameron, Marcus, and Kenneth all let out a big whooping "woo" in celebration, raising their glasses to toast Morgan's freedom.

Keron continued, "And it is up to us to bring him back down from the Heavenly domestic cloud into the sex ravaged single-man Hell where he belongs! All in favor of his gay deflowering, raise a glass and say 'aye'!"

Joey, Cameron, Marcus, and Kenneth all toasted once more, yipping, "Aye!"

Morgan spoke up, "You do know that y'all aren't the first men I've--"

Keron grinned, "Silence, mortal straight man! College experimentation doesn't count. Everyone knows that."

Morgan raised his hands in surrender, "Okay... sure... _college_... whatever you say."

Keron added bountifully, "As far as we all understand, Marcus called dibs."

Marcus let out a loud whoop in favor.

"And so he will be the first to, well, taste the forbidden fruit." Keron finished, "But, men, don't despair. For tonight... we ride."

Joey, Cameron, Marcus, and Kenneth yelled out in joy.

Keron shouted, "The straight man!"

Joey, Cameron, Marcus, and Kenneth repeated, "The straight man!"

Morgan squinted, "Uh, I'm about to sleep with five dudes at the same time for the hell of it and I've been dry humping y'all for months now... I mean at this point I think it's pretty obvious that I'm not one hundred percent strai--"

Keron pointed at Morgan, "Hey. Stop it. Don't ruin this for us."

"Fine." Morgan chuckled as he took a sip of the cool, dark lager, "Whatever gets you all through the night."

They drank to that. 

They quickly went from Sam Adams to his cousin Jack Daniels and from there, got acquainted with Jose Cuervo and Morgan was feeling lit within the hour. The bar was pretty hip. Dim lights, party music. It wasn't long before Cameron got up to shake what the good people of Texas gave him. And it was even sooner that Marcus followed.

Those two were really hot together, both young and slim and twinky. Cameron played the smooth talking Southern gentleman to a default, but when it came to getting down, he was quick to play the catty minx. Paired with the ever fabulous Marcus, they were bound to put on quite a show. And they didn't disappoint. Together, they grabbed each other's waists and pulled each other close, steeling glances as their boys at the table and passing up winks and giggles before kissing softly for their viewing pleasure. Keron, Joey, Kenneth, and Morgan all let out shouts of approval as Cameron's big hands slid down Marcus's back and landed on his shapely rear. Their hips bounced to the music as it played, the table of men cheering as Marcus's tongue slipped into Cameron's mouth.  

The bass bumped through the speakers as the Arctic Monkey's _Do I Want to Know_ blasted through the bar. Cameron pushed Marcus flirtatiously into the table with his boot, smirking as his back hit the wood. He got close, running his hands up Marcus's chest before turning around and bending straight down at the waist. Cameron pushed his hands into his silky blonde locks at the top of his head and shook them around as he swung his ass back and forth, popping up to grab Marcus's shoulder from behind him and run his fingers along his clothes as Cameron dropped into an eagle. Marcus fanned himself with a whistle, "Damn, girl." as Cameron crawled back up his body, turning in his arms and grinding him into the table. Keron and Joey started clapping as Morgan nodded his head at the boys, sucking on the straw of his second margarita. Kenneth smirked, whispering to Morgan, "I got half a mind to slip a bill in those jeans, man. Damn."

Cameron pulled his face out from the crook of Marcus's neck, "It better be at least a Jackson, or I'm throwing it back in your cheap-ass mug." 

The men laughed as Keron pulled a twenty dollar bill out of his pocket, "You gotta earn this one, sweet cheeks. How about a lap dance?"

Cameron pushed Marcus out of his way, walking toward him with a smooth, calculating stride, "I oughta pull you into the men's room and spank you right now, bitch, I'm not on the clock."

"And I'm not your _bitch_ until eleven _o'clock_ , so you better watch your tone. Ain't nobody spanking nobody until then." Cameron placed his fingers on Keron's chest, leaning in and whispering something in his ear. Keron pulled away from his lips, grinning and raising his eyebrows in shock, "For real?"

Cameron kissed Keron on the cheek and whispered, "Oh, yeah baby."

Joey pouted, "What he say though? Man, what he say?"

Morgan chimed in, "Something about oral probably."

Joey chuckled, clinking his glass with Morgan's, "I no think so, but I hope so. You know I mean, D'ek?"

Morgan smirked, "I do. Can't wait to finally be on the receiving end of that hot little mouth, I can tell you that."

Joey leaned into Morgan, scorching his chair in and smiling with those soft, greying lips, "So when I get to play with you, eh? Because I would love a feel those kiss of yours everywhere. And I would love you feel those kiss of me everywhere."

Morgan tapped his strong nose with a margarita wetted fingertip, "I'd love that too, baby."

Joey laughed, "You know I trying to say? I sorry if I can't... you un'erstand... my English is no too good sometime."

Morgan whispered, "Then how about show me?"

"Uh uh! Not yet you won't. Ain't nobody showing shit here." Marcus called from the other side of the table, "If you two horny queens fuck up my dibs, I swear to Jesus, Mary and Joseph that I will set it off in this piece."

Kenneth raised his Jose rocks and sipped easily like he wasn't the first one to break the dibs. Morgan stole a glance at him and Kenneth winked. Marcus raised his eyebrows, walking over to their side of the table and standing right in between them, gripping their shoulders with his soft hands, "Speaking of horny queens, y'all sure look cozy this evening." 

Morgan shrugged, "Well you know how me and Ken are. We hang."

Marcus rolled his eyes, "Then how come you and me don't 'hang', huh? How come my hotline bling only means one thing? My phone dry as hell unless I get a little 'hey pretty boy what you wearing'. I'm starting to feel like a side hoe. Explain yourself, Daddy. And you better use the question in your answer before I Kissing Kate Barlow this bitch's lightskin locs off."

"Fine, man, you're right. I don't hit you up like I should and I'm sorry." Morgan smiled smoothly, setting his glass down before saying lowly for only Marcus to hear, "Because what you give me is so good, I couldn't even dream of asking for more, baby boy. Your pictures so damn sexy, I can't even breathe."

Marcus's tongue clicked against the back of his teeth as he fought a smile, rolling his eyes when it finally graced his lips. He ran a hand over his two long cornrows, pulling one over his shoulder and fiddling with it as he smiled, shaking his head, "You a slick son of a bitch, you know that? You better be glad I like it. Straight boy."

Morgan bit his lip, gazing down Marcus's tight little body, "Mmm, baby, so sweet on me. I bet you feel like Heaven in there."

Marcus slapped Morgan's face playfully, "I do, Daddy. You just gotta sit back and take what I give you."

Morgan moaned as Marcus swished away in his little shorts, "Damn. Look at that booty go."

Marcus turned and giggled at him as he walked over to Joey to get back to his drink, "Shut up, stupid boy. You get on my nerves." 

"Imma be getting on something else tonight." Morgan promised.

"Fucking better be." Marcus replied sassily as he lifted his strawberry daiquiri, taking a long sip before trailing his tongue suggestively up the straw.

Joey, Kenneth, and Morgan breathed out, "Whoa."

Keron said with a smirk, "Man, I'm telling you... two hundred."

Morgan took another sip of his margarita, finishing it up, "He's worth every penny."


	4. Hands All Over

Morgan stumbled into Cameron's loft attached to Joey's soft lips, tasting the cigarette smoke on his tongue as they kicked off their shoes. In the background, they heard raucous drunken party yells from Keron and Marcus as Kenneth carried Cameron over the threshold bridal style behind them. The young man polished off the bottle of Ciroc they'd passed around the Uber van on the way back from the bar with sloppy vigor in Kenneth's arms. Marcus ran to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of Chardonnay, pumping his fist in the air as Morgan and Joey pushed themselves against the back of Cameron's dated couch, "Yasss, gurl! I knew I left this here! Who wants wine, bitches?"

Kenneth dropped Cameron on the old leather couch, tying his long dreadlocks up in a bun with the elastic on his wrist before hopping on top of him to straddle the tipsy Texan, "Pour me some!"

Cameron let the empty bottle of Ciroc slip from his fingers onto the carpet as he dragged Kenneth in by his collar and pulled him down for a long kiss. Their arms wound around each other's bodies and Kenneth pushed Cameron back down, pulling his Polo over his head before ducking back into their lazy make out session. Joey leaned away from Morgan's lips, bending down to run his fingers through Cameron's blonde hair, "Mard-goose, pour glass to me. Glass for mine. Please."

Marcus rifled through Cameron's light wooden cabinets, locating the glasses, "One glass of white for goldi-dreadlocks and another for my Big Fat Greek Bestie! Anyone else?"

Keron crept up behind Marcus, grabbing him by the hips and pressing a kiss to his neck, "No thanks, pretty boy."

Morgan rolled his eyes as he heard the nickname roll off of Keron's tongue. Okay, so maybe he thinks about his coworker a little bit too much when he's falling into these men's embraces, but that's not an excuse for everyone to start using Reid's nickname all the time.

But, then again, Morgan can only get but so mad. They don't know that Pretty Boy isn't something Morgan just calls people. It's not some cute little buzz word like "cutie", "honey", "baby", or "sweetie". It means long flirtatious stares over too sweet coffee. It means unfairly short games of chess. It means plane snoozes and soft hands at Morgan's elbow and beautiful lips stretched around a shy smile and big brown eyes that say more than a truckload of memorized books ever could. It means rare hugs that last a lifetime. It means unspoken words. It means constant tragedy. It means fear. It means love. It means Reid. And, it's fucking grating that these five guys who don't mean a thing say it with such ambivalence. 

As he kissed Joey hard against the couch, he felt a hand at his back. And a strong pair of hips. And stubble roughened lips at his neck. Morgan grabbed Joey and sat him up on the couch so that he could press his body between his legs. The man at Morgan's back unbuckled Morgan's belt and slipped a large hand into his pants. Callouses on the fingertips from years of precision electrical work and recreational guitar playing.

Keron.

Morgan leaned into Keron's body as he kissed Joey. Joey, whom was quickly distracted by a glass of wine that he accepted by pulling Marcus into a long, rough kiss and spanking his toned ass as he headed over to Kenneth. Kenneth, whom needed a minute before he could grab the glass of wine, due to Cameron sitting on his face. Cameron accepted the Chardonnay in Kenneth's stead, grinding his ass against Kenneth's tongue and moaning in nothing but a partially buttoned green Oxford. Joey and Morgan watched Cameron ride Kenneth's face with intrigued wonder and more than their fair share of arousal. Keron bit Morgan's neck, whispering into his ear, "I've wanted you for so long, baby."

Morgan smirked, "I know." as Marcus made his way over to the stereo, plugging in his phone to blast a playlist of modern slow jams and starting to dance with the bottle.

Cameron started laughing from the couch, "That is _not_ how you twerk!"

Marcus shimmied along, shaking his ass to the music without a care in the world, "Ain't nobody ask your opinion. If you don't like it, avert them baby blues because this is how we shake it on the East coast."

"Well, everything's bigger in Texas, darling. See, you're going to want to--" Cameron let out a sudden strangled moan, panting out a steady breath before chuckling and pulling Kenneth's locs, "Ah, man, your tongue does fucking back flips! Jesus."

Marcus took a sip of wine, nodding his head as he pulled off of the bottle, "Yeah, girl, Kenny says 'shut up, stop bothering Marcus, and get your booty ate', alright? You don't get paid the big bucks throwing that accent everywhere. Do you? No? Didn't think so."

Cameron gasped, splaying his hand across his chest, "I'll have you know, the older men _love_ a Southern Belle!"

Morgan, Marcus, Joey, and Keron cracked up laughing, leaning on each other and resting casually in their various states of drunkeness as they watched Cameron strip his shirt off button by button. Cameron tossed up a wink to Joey, "I know _you_  really like this. Want me to bite the collar?"

"Please do the bite it." Joey breathed out, running his hands up and down Morgan's chest as he watched with a turned head. Cameron lifted his collar to his full pink lip and ran it against it slowly, gently, flicking his big blue eyes up to Joey's before running his tongue against the fabric. When he bit down, Joey let out a soft, "Mmm... agoraki mou..."

Morgan leaned back into Keron's caress as he let him kiss his neck. Keron whispered into Morgan's earlobe before breathing on it gently. Morgan moaned and turned in Joey's arms to pull Keron close and press a series of rough kisses against his lips. He feels the best. He always did. Morgan calls Keron's lips his little gateway drug. When he told Keron that a few weeks ago, he laughed. It was deep and rumbling and made Morgan feel all tingly. Morgan dragged his hands up into Keron's short cropped curls, looping his fingers against the tight ringlets and tugging his head back to ravish his way down Keron's smooth neck. His aftershave smelled like eucalyptus. 

Keron smirked down at him, pushing him back into the couch and landing Morgan's ass right against the crotch of Joey's jeans. Joey ground into Morgan, hand dangling over the front of the couch. Cameron was sucking on his fingers while he rode Kenneth's face and Marcus was stripping by the stereo, taking sips of his bottle. Morgan pushed his hips harder into Joey's pants as Keron tongue fucked him and Joey asked quickly, "Cam, you room? Can we?"

Cameron pushed Kenneth's face off of him and sat down on his chest, running his fingers down Kenneth's reddened lips, "Sounds like a good idea, darlin', you wanna come too?"

Kenneth nodded with a tired grin.

"Mmm, let me guess. You're excited just from licking me?" Cameron grabbed Kenneth by the pants and chuckled, "You're so cute. When we get to bed, you gonna give it to me just the way I like it?"

Kenneth said roughly, "You know it."

Cameron asked softly, "Gonna mark me up this time?"

Kenneth shook his head, "No. 'Your body is your job'."

"Yes, there we go, baby. No grabbing me rough and biting me like a bad boy? Gonna behave? So I can work tomorrow? And pay my rent?" Cameron laughed as he slapped Kenneth's cheek playfully, "Bless your heart. So fucking kind of ya."

Kenneth gave him a soft smile, "Lead the way."

As Cameron stood up and ran a hand through his blond waves, he grabbed Kenneth by the hand, collecting a half dressed Marcus on the way. They headed to the dark hallway next to the stereo. Joey pushed Morgan out of the way, scrambling after them like his ass was on fire. Morgan fell into Keron's arms, kissing him harder as the couch freed up. Keron separated their faces and gestured toward the couch, "You wanna..."

Morgan stared at him long and hard, "I do."

Keron pushed Morgan bodily over the couch and Morgan landed hard on the soft leather, "Awesome."

Morgan asked from the couch with a raised eyebrow as Keron walked around the couch, ripping his shirt over his head before sliding right on top of him, "But... well... there's an orgy like twenty feet from here and that might win out for me, you know?"

Keron straddled Morgan, leaning down to press hard kisses on his neck, "Yeah, baby. I know."

Morgan closed his eyes at the feeling of stubble on his neck, "But, um... how about we... surround ourselves with four hot guys and get off with them."

Keron whispered into Morgan's collarbone, "So, what are you sayin? You don't wanna fuck me?"

"No! No, no, no! Hell no." Morgan said quickly, trying to cover his tracks, "I would love to fuck you. But... I would also love to fuck Cameron. And Joey. And Marcus. And Kenneth."

Keron kissed his way down Morgan's chest, "Everybody knows you fucked Ken already."

Morgan wrinkled his nose, "I didn't though."

Keron pushed his face up from Morgan's body, "Alright, man, don't call me a liar."

Morgan complained, "I didn't call you a liar. I'm just saying. We didn't have sex yet."

Keron scoffed as he pressed his lips back to Morgan's jawline, "Yeah, whatever. And I'm the queen of fucking England."

Morgan shoved Keron off of him, "Dude! I said I didn't fuck Kenneth, alright?"

"And I'm saying, he's clearly your favorite! I introduced you to these guys, alright? Me!  And the second you met Ken, you just forgot all about me and what we had before football practice. When we used to go to the Jaybird and make out and take showers together and talk and--" Keron let out a furious grunt, thrusting his hands out, "And now it's 'Kenneth this' and 'Kenneth that' with you. You went over his place. Like twice a week, man. And you've got inside jokes and shit. And he's blowing you and cooking for you and listening to music with you, I mean, come on. Don't treat me like a fucking idiot, okay? I know y'all are _talking_ now."

Morgan sighed, sitting up against the couch, "Keron. Ken and I are talking--"

Keron swore angrily, "Yeah, I know--"

"And Marcus and I are talking." Morgan finished, "And so are me and Joey. And me and Cam. And me and you. I'm talking to all of you. I'm sexting all of you. I want all of you. I'm not picking favorites, okay? I like every last one of y'all. Especially you, Kay. So, don't get all extra about it, alright? You're still that guy for me, alright? The one I kissed at the door."

Keron shook his head, "You're not gonna make me feel like some whipped chick, okay? I'm not mad at you for hooking up with him. I don't own you, alright? I don't _need_ you or anything."

Morgan shrugged, "I know. Just saying."

Keron rolled his eyes, "I don't even like you, if I'm being honest. Fucking cop trash, is what you are."

Morgan smiled, letting out a laugh, "That's why we work out so well. Because underneath the physical, we have nothing in common. I'm not in love with you."

Keron started to chuckle, "And I damn sure ain't in love with you."

Morgan added, "But you... sure are fun to kiss on."

Keron smirked slowly, "So are you."

Morgan asked, "Wanna go into that room over there and have sex with half of a football team? You know, instead of having to look me in the eyes after boring missionary?"

"Last one's a Marcus." Keron yelled, pushing Morgan back down on the couch before running into the hallway.

Morgan pulled himself off of the couch, adjusting his shirt before heading over to the hallway, toeing off his socks on the way and pulling his belt from his pants. When he reached the open door, he smiled at the familiar California King piled high with horny men. When he stepped in, Marcus pushed Keron's face away from his neck and pointed at Morgan from where he stood at the door, "You."

"Me?" Morgan asked with a grin.

Marcus nodded, gesturing him forward, "Yes, you, Daddy. Over here. Right now. These panties won't take themselves off."

Morgan salivated at the thought of those long, flirty legs topped with pink lace and bows. Squinting through the pile of men kissing and touching and groping and moaning into heated mouths and panting breaths of encouragement. Joey and Cameron were wrapped up in each other, the former still just as intent on getting the latter in his arms since he'd watched him on the couch. Now with his attention shifted from Marcus, Keron had found himself beneath Kenneth, legs hitched around his hips and biting his lip into a shared hand job. Looks like the prior animosity he felt for Kenneth could be cooled with a touch. Sex had a way of doing that. Making things not matter. That's why Morgan likes it so much.

When he walked over to the bed, he tugged his pants down, stepping out of them and falling into the bed. This was going to be fun. 

And it was.

So much fucking fun. 

Kenneth was all hands. Cameron licked like it was all he knew how to do. Marcus rode like a crazy person. Keron fucked harder than anyone he's ever slept with. Joey gave blow jobs so filthily, he should honestly look for a change in profession. But, when all of these men are together. On one bed. Sharing their talents and getting each other off all at the same time, it's almost a religious experience.

Hightened bliss.

Shared perception.

Everyone breathing the same carbon monoxide tinted air.

Kissing the lips kissed by all. Sharing gasps. Trading moans. Forgetting which bruises came from whose hands. Racing each other to a climax none of them could control. Making them cum and cumming themselves all in a pile of skin and sweat and shouts and praises to a higher power they'll never understand.

Morgan remembers reaching orgasm with three different pairs of lips on his body, sucking and biting, as he's getting rammed and letting someone ride his body like a fucking carnival attraction. He remembers being so shocked. In complete and utter disbelief that he could be experiencing so much pleasure. Each wave of his climax came with its own hard, soul-crushing, body-quaking ejaculation leaving him wrecked in every way as he gave into it, handing his body over to these five men. And they handled him with such care.

He came down to the smell of sex and sweat, Marcus's braids in his face and Kenneth's locs on his chest. They all collapsed together, passing out in a haze of laughter and shit talking, smacking each other and wrestling good-naturedly as they settled into a hibernation fit for a sleuth of bears. 

* * *

 

Morgan woke to the sun blinding him through Cameron's cheap paper curtains, his sticky skin plastering him to at least two other dudes. Kenneth came into the room quietly, tiptoeing with four glasses of water in his hands. Turns out, two years of serving at Chilis before getting his cook's apron came in handy. Morgan peeled himself off of Joey and Cameron, reaching for Kenneth and trying to shield his eyes with his other hand as he sat up. 

Kenneth smirked, "'Sup, dude?"

Morgan grumbled, "My head. Feels dry."

Kenneth smirked, cocking his head in the direction of the bedroom door, "I was about to put in a couple miles. I've got work in a few hours."

Morgan scoffed tiredly, "First of all, you're a fucking crazy person. How can you even move right now? We all had like two hundred dollars worth of liquor and six orgasms each."

Kenneth laughed, shaking his head at Morgan, "I'm young. I can bounce back, grandpa."

" _Secondly_ , work. I have to go to that." Morgan sighed, "You got the time, man?"

Kenneth set the waters down on Cameron's bedside desk and glanced at his watch, "Five of six."

Morgan grinned, "Thank God."

Kenneth passed Morgan a glass of water from the table, "What time you gotta go in?"

Morgan replied, "Well, it's Tuesday, so no later than eight."

Kenneth watched as Morgan grabbed the glass and chugged it straight down, "Damn, man. You gonna be alright?"

"I've survived worse," Morgan gasped after finishing the water, hauling himself out of bed before feeling a sharp ache deep inside his body and feeling his legs give out on him completely. He fell straight to the ground, earning himself a couple of groans of complaint from the bed. Morgan picked his head up from the floor, breathing out, "Dude. What the fuck is up with my legs?"

Kenneth asked, "Keron's the one who fucked you last night, right?"

Morgan complained into the floor, "I don't know if you were there, but we all fucked _each other_."

Kenneth rolled his eyes, folding his arms over his broad, light yellow skinned chest, "I mean Keron was the lucky son of a bitch to get up in them guts."

Morgan nodded into the carpet.

Kenneth replied, "That's why."

Morgan asked, "Why what?"

Kenneth shrugged, "Why you can't walk."

"Fuck." Morgan hissed, trying to will his legs to work the way they usually do, but his hips were bruised and his core felt like it was scooped out like a avocado seed. But his legs and knees were made of jello, all tingly and useless. Morgan breathed out with a defeated, "I have to pee."

Kenneth smirked, walking over and grabbing Morgan up by the arm, tugging him around his shoulder and hauling him to his shaking feet, "Yeah, Keron has this superpower where he makes the lower half of your body give up on itself. It feels good as shit in the sheets, but does you no favors in the streets. I hope you're not chasing down any baddies today, because that's gonna be real awkward. You got a wheelchair at home?"

Morgan snapped his eyes up to Kenneth's face, "What?!"

Kenneth started to chuckle, "I'm just fucking with you, man. You'll be fine in a minute. Get that blood flowing. Shake them out. You'll be able to walk in a second, alright? Chill."

Morgan struggled on his legs, depending on Kenneth to get him out of the room, "Fuck, this is so difficult. My legs are all static-y."

"Yeah, I know. We've all been there. Keron will fuck the English out your mouth if you let him and you treated yourself like an all-y'all-can-eat buffet last night. He gave it to you real good. I was watching. Looked like you were enjoying it though." Kenneth suggested as they made their way to the bathroom down the hall, their bare feet catching on the soft white carpet.

Morgan sighed, "I was--ow! My hips. They're so bruised."

Kenneth chuckled, "My bad."

"It fucking burns." Morgan hung his head as they approached the bathroom, his body aching as he pushed away from Kenneth and leaning against the wall for support as he stumbled toward the toilet, "Worth it though. So worth it."

Kenneth stood outside the bathroom, leaning his head in the direction of it, "Fuck yeah, it was. Why do you think we keep coming back? We need this, man. The whole touching on each other thing... it's more than fucking, you know?"

Morgan lifted the seat gingerly and took himself in hand, peeing into the toilet with a groan, "Yeah, man. I got you. It's all sexuo-spirituoso or whatever."

Kenneth thumped his elbow against the wall, "Man, I'm being real with you. I black out sometimes, yo. I get in this head space when I'm with y'all. It's like I'm outside my body watching myself create pleasure outta nothing. It's like I'm, I don't know, feeling y'all feeling me feeling y'all. And it's peaceful as fuck."

Morgan smirked, "So, you're all zen Buddha all of a sudden?" 

Kenneth smiled gently, Morgan could hear it through the wall, "Shut the fuck up, man. You know I'm right."

Morgan finished up, flushing the toilet and limping over to the sink to wash his hands up, shaking at his legs, trying to push the jelly feeling out of them and play through the soreness, "You are. I had a moment like that."

Kenneth asked with a raised eyebrow as Morgan left the bathroom with a gentle ginger limp, "When?"

Morgan shrugged, "I don't know, man, I don't really want to talk about it. It was good, okay?"

Kenneth said calmly, taking Morgan's hand and looping their fingers together, "You don't have to spill, man. I get it. It's intense."

"Speaking of intense." Morgan tugged at Kenneth's hand, leading him into the living room. Kenneth followed him, their feet striding through the soft white carpet of the small apartment, heading into the living room that was a lot brighter in the sober light of day. It was sparingly decorated, like its absence of decor was supposed to be purposeful. The large L-shaped leather couch was cool. So was the stereo and TV system. There were Beyonce posters on the wall all over the place, which was totally understandable considering she was a goddess. Cameron had a bunch of fairy lights everywhere instead of lamps like a normal person. When asked why, he said they were cuter and more of a fire hazard, which turned him on. It's hard to get a straight answer out of that boy.

It's hard to get a straight anything out of him, actually, considering he's almost gayer than Marcus. He could be if he wasn't so obsessed with Beyonce's tits. They were drinking at the pub down the street from his place one night and he went on this long rant of everything he would do to Beyonce if she let him. It was kind of jarring to see a man who strips exclusively at a gay club, twirls on a pole like an angel, and sucks dick like it's what his perfect pink lips were made to do talking about how he would fuck the most bootylicious woman in America. 

Now, don't get Morgan wrong. He would take Beyonce to pound town too, but he's bisexual. Of course, he would. 

They passed the sixth Beyonce poster on the way to the couch where Morgan shoved Kenneth down before climbing on top of him partly to give his legs some relief and partly to push his lips against Kenneth's stubbly chin. Kenneth smirked as their naked skin touched from knee to shoulder, raising an eyebrow, "Well, hey there."

Morgan pressed his lips to his rough cheek and his jawline and his mouth, kissing him with abandon, letting their sleep sour tongues slide together on the couch, rutting their hips together. Kenneth ran his hands down Morgan's back and said against his kiss, "I still need to go for that run."

"How about you run... your hands down my body?" Morgan kissed his lips, lingering against his body, "He said with a determined look, mischievous as his lips traveled to the sexy bearded man's chin."

Kenneth chuckled, his head falling back against the couch and his locs spilling out from underneath him, "Oh, my God, man. Please stop narrating yourself. You know how I hate that."

"Said Kenneth as he tilted his head back, revealing his stubbled neck. Soft skin just begging for a bite." Morgan smirked as he kissed at Kenneth's Adam's apple, "And he blushed, even though he'll deny it later. With those cat-like brown eyes and that button nose and those lips that taste like... fucking Heaven when they're kissed."

Kenneth's face reddened at those words and he ran his hands up Morgan's face, stilling him and looking him into his eyes, "Hey. Seriously. Derek, I... I got something to say."

Morgan smiled gently as Kenneth kissed his lips, "Yeah, baby boy? What?"

"I... well, I... God, this is so lame. I know, but I..." Kenneth sighed, giving Morgan a shrug.

Morgan teased, "Spit it out, man."

Kenneth confessed quickly, "I have feelings for you."

Morgan's face fell as he heard those words.

Kenneth sped up his words, sensing Morgan's change in emotion, "Look! Look, I know. I know. You said 'no emotions, no boyfriend shit'. I know. Trust me, man, I do. I'm not saying date me. Hell, I'm not even asking for you to change the way you talk to me. I just wanted to let you know that... well, I see potential here. This could be something real, you know it could be. I know you feel it too. That's why you come over. That's why we spend time away from the guys. We hold hands and talk for hours and... I just... when I picture myself happy. Really happy. I picture myself with you."

Morgan felt his jaw clench up and he relaxed his lips, "Man, I don't know what to tell you."

Kenneth laughed nervously, "Nothing. Don't say anything. Please. I just put myself out there and I already know the answer, and I'd rather hear silence. Trust me."

Morgan took a breath and looked back into Kenneth's defeated eyes, "Hey. Look. Ken. You know you're my favorite, alright?"

"I know." Kenneth smiled, the sentiment not reaching his eyes.

Morgan added, "I like you. A lot. And... shit, you're right. There is potential here. Real feelings that could grow into something amazing, man. But, I'm not... I'm not ready for a relationship. I don't think I ever will be. Because I keep... getting into these situations where I fall for someone who's everything I could possibly imagine wanting. But it's never enough because... I don't deserve that, you know?"

Kenneth shook his head, leaning up on his elbow, "Are you kidding? You deserve it more than any of us--"

Morgan cut him off, "No. I don't. Because what I imagine isn't reality. I can't live with a dream, okay? There are things I want, people I want, that can't be mine. Because for some fucked up reason, I'm not meant for it. And I can't saddle you with that like I saddled Savannah with it. That regret I have. My dreams. The shit I'll never have fucking kills me inside. And I have to look at it. And live with it. You know? And that's no way to live with someone. Someone who... wants something else."

Kenneth ran his thumb down Morgan's cheek, landing on his lip and chin, "Well, what do you want?"

Morgan broke eye contact with him and whispered, "A boy. A pretty, pretty boy."

Kenneth asked, "Straight?"

Morgan scoffed, "Yeah. I think so, anyway. He's never showed any kind of interest in dudes before, and he's had lady friends so..."

Kenneth gave Morgan a small smile, "Maybe you just don't know him well enough."

"We've been friends for thirteen years." Morgan said flatly, "We work together. We've shared hotel rooms. We've shared toothpaste. Man, we even shared oxygen one time. There's nothing I don't know about him. I mean, the kid damn near leaves me a voicemail every time he takes a dump."

Kenneth started to chuckle, "Jesus. Y'all are _too_ close."

Morgan rolled his eyes, "Tell me about it."

"So," Kenneth said with a curious tilt of his head, "What's he like?"

Morgan couldn't control the smile on his face as he sat up, running a hand over his bald head before asking, "You sure it's cool if I talk about him? I don't want things to be weird between us."

Kenneth put his feet up on Morgan's lap, "Well, we both just got out of an orgy hibernation, we're still naked, and I definitely just told you how I felt about you knowing I'd get rejected. Anything else is just gravy at this point. So, shoot. Tell me about your 'pretty boy'."

Morgan placed his hand on Kenneth's shin, patting it gently, "His name... is Spencer."

Kenneth let out a sharp chuckle, "That name is white as hell."

Morgan scoffed, "Says 'Kenneth' to a man named 'Derek'."

Kenneth smiled, "You know what I mean. Am I right?"

"Oh, yeah. He is white. Like cripplingly white -- _neon_ white." Morgan laughed, nodding in agreement, "And a doctor. Super smart. Really nice guy, just the sweetest. He's got one of those pure souls, you know? Just the salt of the Earth, that kid. He smiles with like all of his teeth too. It's cute. Real cute. And... he... he looks at me like I'm some sort of superhero and it's really, really, ridiculously scary when he does that. It's so much pressure. Mainly because I'd hate to let him down. God, so many people have let him down. And left him. And died on him. He deserves an actual superhero, you know? Some big, strong, immortal being who always says the right thing and is never late to dinner."

Kenneth's eyes fell from Morgan's face, "You love him."

Morgan sighed shyly, "I mean, well, yeah. I do. I told him too. And he said 'I know'."

Kenneth gasped, "Ouch."

Morgan shook his head quickly, "No, man, it's chill. It is. He just ripped my heart out of my chest and stomped on it a couple of times. No big."

Kenneth asked, "Want an 'I'm sorry' hand job?"

"Of course, I would. Who'd turn that down? Especially from you." Morgan started to laugh, petting Kenneth's shin.

Kenneth smirked, leaning his head back on the arm of the couch, "I will if you tell me more about Dr. Spencer Pretty Boy."

Morgan asked, "Why do you want to know so much about him?"

Kenneth shrugged, "Sizing up the competition. What's he look like? You know, other than 'neon white'."

Morgan said simply, "He's about six two. Kinda twiggy, but his ass is a damned fairy tale. And he's got these lips that are pink and full and soft. He kissed my neck one time. When we were hugging. I'm pretty sure it was an accident, but my body almost quit on me. I swear. And, uh... his eyes. They're big and brown. Kinda like... well, I'm not gonna lie. He's got blow job eyes."

Kenneth smacked Morgan's arm with a grin, "Oh, my God! Stop."

"He does! I'm being real! They're all innocent and pretty." Morgan laughed, leaning back into the leather, "His nose is... French. Skinny and long. Cheekbones like an angel. His jawline is strong. Masculine. His hair is just... this fuzzy caramel mop of loose curls. He looks like he was caught in a wind storm on his way to work every day, and I seriously doubt that he owns a brush. A comb, yes, but definitely not a brush. He definitely over-conditions it, because it's almost too soft. He lets me play with it sometimes, which is pretty cool of him. I like that I can mess with it on my way to my office every morning and he won't complain about it. He blushes too. At everything. I mean, he blushes when the wind blows, but he definitely blushes whenever I touch his hair. His voice is fast. Calculated like he knows exactly what he's going to say before he says it. Like he had time to think before he talks. He's always so confident about his words. Even if they make no sense."

Kenneth asked, "How's that?"

Morgan shrugged, adding simply, "He talks a lot. Like sometimes he'll just keep talking without even paying attention to what he's saying. He'll drone on and on about something he read, quoting it word for word for miles and miles. If you don't stop him, he'll keep going. Me and my friend Emily timed it once. He talked for forty two minutes about El Greco."

Kenneth yawned and added, "Forty two minutes? Oh, fuck that, man. I'd have smacked him like three minutes in. Who the hell is El Greco?"

"Painter. Spanish Renaissance. Boring. Trust me." Morgan sighed with a fond laugh, "He's so cute though. I can deal with a lot if he's dishing it out. And if I pay attention, I get free lectures. I basically have an honorary liberal arts degree because of that ranty little weirdo."

Kenneth nodded, "Dress game?"

Morgan rolled his eyes, "Weak. Think Pee Wee Herman mixed with Screech from Saved By the Bell mixed with a ninety-year-old pocket protector salesman."

Kenneth popped his head up and gave Morgan a worried look, "Dude, ick."

Morgan sighed, "I know, man, I know. I've tried to get him to a mall at some point, but then he goes on this tangent about pricing and trends changing every few years and how much retail workers are paid and how much the people who make these trendy clothes are paid and then? Then he starts talking about how awesome thrift stores are and how he can't believe the stuff they try to throw away."

Kenneth's jaw dropped, "No."

"Yes." Morgan gestured quickly, "One time I asked him where he got this God awful tie and he said, and I quote ' _the Goodwill down the street was about to put this in the trash bin and I said, no need. I'll take that_ '."

Kenneth placed his hand on his chest, "You're lying."

Morgan said, "I can't make this shit up, okay? I'm nowhere near that creative."

Kenneth sighed, "How long have you been in love with this dork?"

Morgan leaned his head back against the back of the couch, "Fuck, at least... I don't know... about thirteen years."

 


	5. Sub Zero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ughh im like a week late sorryyyy
> 
> and i also hate the way i wrote this........

Morgan walked carefully up the stairs, hand gripping the metal railing of the bullpen as he tried to make it to his office as quickly and quietly as possible. He looks normal. Morgan made damn sure of that. After talking with Kenneth on the couch, he showered at Cameron's and got the fresh outfit from his car after he Uber'd back to the bar to pick it up. He drove with the window down, sunglasses on and a smile gracing his face. Under his tee shirt, it was a torrent of hickeys, bites, and scratches. And his legs? They're still a little weird. He has to concentrate on every step he takes because they're still all static-y and loose. So, the steps took an extra thirty seconds. They had to. He's not falling again. Falling sucks. And falling on stairs is even worse. It's a whole backwards dribble type situation. No fun for anyone involved. 

So, when Penelope clicked by in her yellow kitten heels, she stopped and gave him a solid look down.

"Go ahead." Morgan sighed, trying desperately not to be trapped on the fourth step, "Say it."

Garcia giggled knowingly, "I won't."

Morgan bowed his head, taking a deep breath before pushing himself to the final step, landing on solid ground once more, "I've made this complaint before, girl. We should move all our offices to one floor."

Garcia held out her hand for Morgan to lean on as he kissed her temple, "Or you could focus on _not_ getting a train ran on you when you know you have work in the morning."

"A train ran on me?" Morgan laughed, sighing softly with a slight grimace as his aching hips stung him, "Penny. Understatement."

Garcia smirked, "How are the hips?"

"Literally on fire. I feel like I just did a 10k." Morgan complained, letting out a small smile, "I definitely saw the tree of life at some point. I think I understand the Butterfly Effect now. I looked into the future for a second there, and I know who's going to win the election, but there's no way in hell I'm telling you because it has become clear to me that no one should have that much power."

Garcia started to laugh as they reached the door of her office, she grabbed the handle with her pink manicured fingers, and let them into her lair, "Sit down. Tell mama all about it."

Morgan grabbed hold of the chair beside her desk and ransacked a pillow, tossing it down on the seat before easing down on it with a little discomfort. Garcia watched with a wry smile that can only be brought on by pure amusement. She fanned out her flowery fit and flair dress and took a seat on her throne, aka the fluffy pink armchair she made Kevin put wheels on. With a relaxed flick of her wrist, she began to power up her computer systems, smiling at the gentle hum of technology thrumming as the lights sprang to life. Then, she cracked her knuckles and leaned back, crossing her legs, "Okay. Shoot. I'm ready for my naughty bedtime story, Cocoa Rocha."

He started, "So, first, we got drunk."

Garcia added, "Of course."

Morgan leaned back in the seat, resting his back and legs, "Then, went to Cameron's."

Garcia raised an eyebrow, "He's the blonde one? Blue eyes? Ass of an angel?"

"Yes. You're learning." Morgan said with a wink, "Marcus, the hottie with the cornrows and the stocking fetish, bust out some wine and we partied in the living room. Me, Joey -- the Greek construction worker -- and Keron -- you know him -- got in some hot, surprise make out trio. Meanwhile, Cameron pushed Kenneth down and sat on his face for a little bit while Marcus started stripping to stupid millennial slow jams. Cam and Ken went to the bedroom, then Marcus, then Joey. Keron tried to get with me on the couch while they were in the bedroom, but I curved him so I could duck into the orgy. And then... I ducked into the orgy."

Garcia clapped her hands together once, "I'm so proud of you."

Morgan asked, "As proud of me as you were when we went backstage at that Beyonce concert and she slapped my ass?"

Garcia gasped, "Blasphemy. I don't think anything can top that."

Morgan laughed, picking up a glittery pink pen, playing with it on the edge of the desk, "Speaking of topping..."

Garcia did a little dance in her seat, grabbing a plushie of Nala from the Lion King and squeezing it, " _Bitch_. Give me the deets."

"So, we all basically fucked each other, but during the point of... well, Nirvana... Keron was pounding me like a damn psycho. Marcus was riding me to kingdom come. Joey was making out with me while fucking Cameron, who was also kissing me and Kenneth was fucking Joey, I think. I couldn't tell at that point because I went partially blind for a little bit. But, we all kind of exploded around the same time. It was so beautiful and so fucking dirty. There was jizz and sweat everywhere. There were like four different guys moaning into my ear. And scratching me. And grabbing me. And biting me. And then we all passed out naked."

Garcia let out a quick breath, "Dang, son."

Morgan sighed, closing his eyes, "I still can't walk right. And that's like three different people's fault. I mean, mostly Keron. Because he was, you know, stabbing me in the prostate, but yeah. I don't think my legs will ever be the same. I definitely pulled at least six muscles."

Garcia raised her hand and her Nala plushie to the sky and sang, "Yeah, but you are a boss ass bitch, man, I'm telling you. The ultimate."

Morgan added with a smile, "Yes, I am."

Garcia patted his arm, "So, what about this morning? Any time for some daylight lovin'?"

Morgan smirked, "Oh, my God, angel. Yes. It was basically me and Kenneth--and, _girl_ , speaking of Kenneth! Guess what he said to me on the couch--"

A sudden knock on the door caused Morgan and Garcia to both turn toward it. An unmistakable voice sounded out, "Hey, Garcia. JJ wants to talk to you." The door opened and there stood Dr. Spencer Reid looking like he'd gone three days without sleep. He was wearing a tan shawl collar sweater. That's his Don't Talk to Me Sweater. Uh, oh. That no underwear date must have tanked. Yikes. Garcia gasped at the sight of him, "Damn, Daniel. You okay?"

"I'm fine." he hissed out with a steely grimace, pushing up his fuzzy bangs with an impatient hand as he turned on his heels and made his way out of the office. Morgan's pretty sure he heard stomping. Well. That's no good. Morgan whipped his head back around to Garcia, "Do you think that might have anything to do with the elevator ride from Hell?"

Garcia put down Nala with a worried look on her face, adjusting her pink glasses before sighing and pushing herself out of her chair, "I don't doubt it. You mind doing damage control while I check in with Jayje?"

Morgan nodded, "Yeah definitely. Just give me like one more minute in this chair, baby girl. This pillow is heaven on the glutes."

"Of course it is, sweetheart, I had my hands all over it." Garcia chuckled, patting Morgan's back on the way out, closing the door behind her. Morgan sat in silence for a moment, trying not to imagine all of the ways Reid's date could have broken his heart. But, if he analyzes the look on Reid's face, it wasn't disappointment or sadness on his face. It was anger. And surprisingly, Reid is gets scary when he's mad. He lashes out and blames innocent bystanders. It's super childish. The chances Morgan will put himself in the crossfire by approaching Reid without coffee or candy of some kind were really high. So, Morgan groaned as he stood, ready to approach his disturbingly hot coworker with care. Morgan gritted his teeth at the bruising pain and shaky legs.

He took a deep breath and cleared the door before realizing Reid's desk was down the stairs. Great.

 

* * *

 

 

When he made it to Reid's desk three minutes later, Morgan was actually panting after what seemed like the Great Stair Challenge of the Spring Olympics. But, he got there nonetheless to see a frowning Reid signing case files with an unnecessarily heavy hand, pen scratching harshly against the paper as his watch scraped against the desk like it was to blame for world hunger. Morgan leaned against Reid's desk with a sore hip and smiled pleasantly, "Hey, kid. What's up?"

Reid slammed the case file shut, causing Morgan to jump a bit in surprise as Reid glared back at him, "Nothing! I'm having a wonderful morning! It's downright beautiful outside, the WMATA ran on schedule, and my coffee was perfect! How are you, Morgan?"

"You're shouting nice things at me in a hostile tone and I don't know how to read the room right now," Morgan paused, "So, not the best."

Reid leaned back against the desk, folding his arms across his Don't Talk To Me Sweater before pulling at the white tie at the collar of his dark red plaid Oxford, "I'm not mad at _you_ , so you can point those concerned eyes elsewhere."

Morgan smirked, "Hey, I never asked if you were."

Reid rolled his eyes, looking up at him plainly, "You were going to. I was trying to save your breath."

Morgan asked, "So, if it ain't me, who gave you the stank attitude?"

Reid mumbled, "Someone I met yesterday. They told me one thing and did another. I feel betrayed and used and angry. Do you have any cheese cubes in your office?"

Morgan replied with a turn of his head, "Depends. Are you stress eating dairy again?"

Reid sighed, fixing his hair with a small grumble, "No. I was just asking."

Morgan pushed some case files out of the way and sat down on the edge of his desk, trying unsuccessfully to hold back a wince, "So, what did they tell you they were going to do?"

Reid cast his eyes downward, missing Morgan's gaze, "Stay."

Morgan tried to click the different pieces together in his head before coming up empty, "Stay how?"

"Well..." Reid flicked his big brown eyes up to meet Morgan's face once more, "Tell this to nobody."

Morgan raised three fingers, "Scout's Honor."

Reid lowered his voice, reaching his hand out and grabbing a pen before tapping on the desk with it nervously, "I met someone online a couple weeks ago. And we went out for the first time last night at a cafe. And they gave me a ride back to my place and... spent the night."

Morgan's eyebrows raised.

Reid had sex last night too. Wow. Okay. Morgan's not mad. He can't be. And he's not. Nope. Not at all. Not in the slightest. He didn't miss those gender neutral phrases either. So, it was probably a dude. Fantastic. Awesome. Perfect. Reid slept with a _guy_ last night. And it wasn't him. _Don't_ seethe _with anger, Morgan, calm down. It's okay._ Morgan nodded, letting Reid explain further, "And I woke up this morning and they were gone. No note. No text. I can't get a returned phone call to save my life, nothing."

Morgan shook his head, holding back the anger that flashed back up, "Well, Reid. He could have a valid excuse for this. Let's be rational." Morgan's going to kill that man. He's going to hunt him down and he's going to cause him pain. A lot of pain. And then, very slowly, Morgan is going to squeeze the life out of him. Reid is not a one night stand! He's a sweet, incredible, charming buttercup that deserves to wake up to blow jobs and breakfast and the promise of bucket loads of love and kisses and joy. What stupid ass walked out on Reid like he's nothing but a cheap lay? What. Stupid. Ass. Morgan's going to hurt him. Oh, buddy. Morgan's going to--

"He?" Reid gave Morgan a confused look that was probably about the assumed gender of Reid's bedfellow.

Morgan answered, "What? I'm a good profiler."

Reid's face ran red and he whispered, glancing around like he had something to hide, " _Don't tell anybody_!"

Morgan asked, "Tell anybody what? That you're gay? You know we don't care, right?"

Reid shook his head perilously, "I'm not gay. I'm a panromantic demisexual."

"What's that?" Morgan made a face.

Reid sighed, getting his adorably patient 'Explaining things to Morgan' face on, "I'm only sexually attracted to people after I spend a certain amount of time with them. I have to get to know them first, and then... you know. Other feelings may come in time."

Morgan started to grimace, "So, that asshole has just become even more of an asshole."

Reid asked, "How?"

Morgan's eyes narrowed in a glare as his anger showed on his face, "He made you fall in love with him."

"Whoa! Hold up, now. I didn't fall in love. I'm not that stupid." Reid said with a chuckle, waving his hand off at Morgan.

Morgan raised an eyebrow, "I don't follow."

"I don't do love anymore." Reid raised the pencil, explaining simply, "Love means tragedy. No love, no tragedy. Say, the guy I spent the night with yesterday gets hit by a truck tomorrow. It'll suck, yeah, but I'll be able to get on with my life. I'll show up to work the next day and be perfectly fine, happy that I've known him. But if _you_ were to--" Reid paused, eyes growing large with hesitation, "I mean, hypothetically. If I... you know loved _you_... and you got offed by an unsub, I'd probably go through a terminal depression. And by probably, I mean almost definitely. I'd spiral out. It would destroy me. That's love. Love sucks. So, I've stopped doing it."

Morgan scoffed, "Reid. You _chose_ to never fall in love?"

Reid nodded with a grin, "I know, right? It's perfect."

Morgan added with a disbelieving shake of his head, "It's impossible."

Reid rolled his eyes, "Well, I know platonic love is a thing. You know, like JJ, Garcia, Hotch. I have no control over how I would feel if they got hurt. But, I'm not in love with either of them. So, even though it would take a while, I would eventually be okay. Just like I am with Gideon. It sucked for a long, long time. But, I was able to make my peace with it. Maeve though? That's going to hurt me until the day I die. And I can't do that to myself again. I don't think I'll be able to... be who I am anymore if I suffer anymore intense grief, you know? So, no more love. Paired with a twice quarterly bout of emotionless monogamy, I might be able to be happy forever."

 _I have absolutely zero chance with him. No. I_ had _zero chance with him before. Now, I have... sub-zero chance. Fantastic. My chance with him has turned into a negative number. And, here I thought I haven't accomplished anything impossible in my lifetime_. Morgan nodded with a wink, "Good luck with that, kid."

Reid let out a knowing smirk, setting down the pen and grabbing another case file sassily, "Thank you. I have bright prospects for this next annum."

"Nice. Who's your next partner going to be? 50th season of Dr. Who on tape?" Morgan teased.

Reid made an annoyed face at Morgan that definitely wasn't supposed to be cute, which didn't help the fact that it was, "Ha ha. I don't need DVDs, grandpa, I have Netflix now. There's at least sixty years of science fiction to catch up on, and I can do it all without leaving my couch."

Morgan gasped, "Wow, you're even more of a loser than I thought you were."

Reid laughed, letting out an entertained smile as he added, "You can come over and check it out if you want. I have X-Files, Stargate, and Buffy, so who's the loser now?"

Morgan cackled at Reid's blase approach to spending all of his free time cooped up watching TV so that he doesn't fall in love, "You, dude."

"Yeah, you say that now. But, when I hear a knock at my door at ten o'clock, I'm going to take the moral high road and say nothing." Reid said with confidence as he opened the file, signing his name at the bottom and dating it, "So, you in or not? What are you doing tonight?"

Morgan replied, "Nothing that can't be moved over. I'll bring the wine?"

Reid scoffed, turning a page of the file, "Wine? Man, screw wine. I woke up to a sexual partner dodging me this morning. There's a bottle of Scotch with my name on it I'm cracking open no matter what. You know, if Savannah will be cool with me sending you home in a cab."

"Oh, um... Savannah..." Morgan cringed at the sound of her name. No one knows about their breakup except Garcia. There's no better time than now, he guesses. Rip off the band aid. He finished, "She left me. Sunday, actually."

Reid continued along with the file, "Yeah, okay. Sure."

Morgan rolled his eyes, "It's not a goof, man. I'm being serious."

Reid's head popped up and he gave Morgan a soft look of regret, "Oh, my goodness. I'm so sorry. What happened?"

 _I couldn't stand the fact that she wasn't you anymore and I self-sabotaged by seeking solace in the arms of five different men while I was still in a relationship with her_. Morgan answered honestly, "I don't know, man, we just weren't it for each other."

Reid shook his head, holding Morgan's gaze, "No. No, you two are. You're perfect. She's it for you. Right?"

Morgan replied, "On paper, yeah. And we get along great. But... love's not just about enjoying each other's company. It's more than that. I loved her. I still do, but she's not the One. I know it. And she knew it too."

Reid cocked his head to the side, "Well, how do you know when you've met the One then?"

Morgan gazed down at the boy he loved, smiling, "I think I have that all figured out." 

Reid gave him a flat groan of annoyance, "Yeah, I've got that. Tell me."

"Why?" Morgan said pointedly, "I thought you were sealing yourself up in your room hiding from love."

Reid folded his arms over his sweater and quoted, "You forget you work for the cops? We love theories. Come on. Spin me a story."

Morgan shook his head, "Sgt. James Doakes. Season one of _Dexter_. You've already begun your Netflix binge."

Reid said with a smirk, "Doakes is my favorite. He's so grumpy."

Morgan gave Reid a look of willful condolence, "Oh, God. You haven't gotten to season two yet, have you?"

Reid leaned back further against the chair, confusion in his eyes, "No. Why?"

Morgan lied, looking away from Reid's poor sweet innocent eyes, "No reason."

Reid would have pressed further, but the sound of JJ's heels on the carpet was enough to break the conversation. Morgan turned to see her making her way over to them with an arm full of case files. She grinned with determination on her way to Reid's desk, "Oh, thank God. You two are together. That maximizes my trip! We have a case. It's a weird one. Guess which state needs our help? Winner gets the couch on the jet."

Morgan guessed randomly, "Tennessee?"

JJ shook her head as she approached the desk, "Nope."

Morgan winced, "Florida? That place is the poster child for murder."

JJ replied, "Not Florida."

Morgan asked, "Washington."

Reid narrowed his eyes, fingers trailing along the arm of his chair as he tried to suss it out, "You said _state_ , not province, annex, or commonwealth, which rules out Alaska, Hawaii, and Pennsylvania and makes my probability 1:47 instead of 1:50. So I'm going to guess... California."

JJ handed Reid the first file in her pile, "You creep me out."

Reid started to smile slowly, "I'm right, aren't I?"

JJ passed Morgan his sizeable file before tapping Reid on the nose with her forefinger, "Aren't you always?"

"You know, at some point you all are going to give me a complex with the omniscience jokes." Reid called out as she turned, blonde hair fanning the familiar jasmine scent of her shampoo. Morgan watched as she headed up the steps to Rossi's office. He's not surprised Reid had a crush on her when he first joined the team. Morgan did too. But what Morgan felt for her was less innocent, more brief attraction. He has a rule.  Don't sleep with a woman who carries a gun. And he's never broken that rule. Okay... he did with Jordan. But, she was obviously a temp. He wouldn't be stuck with her for going on 14 years like he had with JJ. And, when the attraction faded, Morgan realized they had the potential to become great friends. I mean, they didn't. But the potential was there. Morgan and JJ just didn't click like that. She wasn't the type of person he could sit for hours and talk with. He could have lunch with her, and their minds worked damn near as one on the field. But, outside of it, he was more likely to call Garcia or Prentiss or Reid before sending her a text.

He picked himself up from off the desk and pushed his fingers into Reid's buttery soft curls, playing with them for a moment, "Ugh. Case."

Reid let Morgan busy himself with his hair while he gathered up the case file and stuffed it into his satchel, "Duty calls. Time to kick ass and take names."

Morgan chuckled, "Yo, I heard 'snapping necks and cashing checks' from somebody a couple weeks ago. That's a good one."

Reid laughed, "How about 'saving vics and taking pics'?"

Morgan shook his head flipping Reid's curls back and forth in his hands while Reid continued to organize his bag, "Or... 'cuffing perps and just desserts'."

"Eh. Do better." Reid said with a snicker, clicking the straps on his satchel.

Morgan made a face, "Cleaning streets and pounding sheets?"

"Nice." Reid laughed, head falling back into Morgan's hand, "So, you done messing up my hair yet, or..."

Morgan pushed Reid's curls into his face and grinned, "Now, I am."

Reid shook his head and ran his fingers through his locks, trying to pin them back against his head after Morgan momentarily blinded him, "Not cool, Morgan."

Morgan smacked Reid in the back of the head with the case file, "Come on, kid. Hustle. We're due upstairs."

 

* * *

 

There was a serial killer walking around slaughtering old people and dumping them on bus stop benches, putting sunglasses on them to make it look like they're sleeping. Reid, happy with his seat on the jet, tapped his feet against the floor of the jet as he read the case file. Hotch spoke up with his mug of coffee, asking them to speculate. They did. Most of the plane ride, Morgan spent his free moments drawing a bad picture of tighty whiteys on a the corner of a page of the case file and putting it in Reid's eye line whenever he could. Reid would blush every time he saw it, knowing Morgan was joking about his trip with freeballing it the day before and sending a passive aggressive glare Morgan's way. Morgan waited until Hotch wasn't looking to mime licking the picture and winking at Reid. Hotch saw it anyway, rolling his eyes and giving a warning frown. Reid laughed though, so it was totally worth it.

The precinct was friendly, like it usually is in California. They remembered the team from the last time they were there. Kidnapper. Ugh. No one likes those. Well, no one likes any criminal intense enough to call in Federal help to lock them up, but you know what we mean. Morgan set up camp, preparing to meet with some victim's families to create a victimology report with Tara by his side. Reid and Hotch got set on the maps while Rossi and JJ went to the crime scene. 

Fixing up a victimology was pretty easy. Old, vulnerable, poor. Hotch and Reid found the unsub's comfort zone in minutes. It wasn't that hard to figure out. The dude was using the same two bus stops and they were both like a couple of blocks apart, so his range was really small. Before long, Hotch ordered Reid and Morgan to head to the morgue to check out the bodies. 

In the car, Morgan decided to give Reid the AUX cord and free reign over his Spotify account, which actually didn't suck as much as Morgan thought it would. He was kind of counting on being able to make fun of Reid's music. But, Reid put on R.E.M.. Morgan can't complain with the band. He dabbled with some of their tapes in college. Reid bopped his head, muttering the lyrics to Losing My Religion as he tapped his fingers against the dashboard. Morgan's heart lurched watching Reid groove to the music. It was damned cute. Morgan smiled, "You look fucking adorable when you get into it like that."

Reid gave Morgan a firm eye roll, " _I thought that I heard you laughing. i thought that I heard you sing. I think I thought I saw you try._ "

Morgan smirked, "I'll always try at you, you know that."

"Yeah, I know." Reid chuckled, leaning back against the seat, "Hopeless flirt."

Morgan made a left turn, casually glancing Reid's way, "You love it."

He saw Reid's cheeks go just the slightest shade of pink as Reid turned to the window. 

Morgan joked, "So, should I put my hand on your leg and recite poetry or..."

Reid began to laugh, shoulders shaking against the seat as he leaned back into it and glanced at Morgan, "And you guys call me weird."

Placing his hand down on Reid's leg, he squeezed gently, "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?"

"Dear God, please. Don't." Reid laughed with a fond look on his face as he swatted Morgan's hand away.

"Too bad, because I'm going to do it." Morgan let out a knowing grin, "You, Dr. Spencer Reid--"

Reid rolled his eyes, "Full name. This must be serious."

Morgan continued, "You're like a summer's day because you're hot, bright as hell, and only weirdos who like the cold can't stand you. You're like a summer's day because everything's more fun with you around. You make people sweat for many different reasons." Morgan winked, "And you probably last a long time."

Reid snorted into his laughter, "What you mean like during sex?!"

Morgan snickered as he steered the car into another lane, "Oh, yeah. You don't seem like a one pump wonder, you know?"

Reid hid his face in his hands, "Well, gosh, I don't know."

Morgan glanced his direction, "Yeah, you do. What faces do your partners usually make after? 'Wow, that was amazing', 'thank God it's over', or 'is that it'?"

"I don't know, depends on the person, I guess." Reid said into his hands, clearly beyond embarrassed, "Why are we talking about this?"

Morgan laughed, "Because it makes you all blushy and flustered. It's awesome."

Reid pushed his hands away from his face, smoothing out his hair nervously before answering disjointedly, "I don't know. It's usually... different."

"Story time!" Morgan said excitedly, kind of eager to hear about Reid's past lovers. Maybe he could get a picture of what Reid's like in bed, which, yes have its ulterior motives to it. He watched as Reid gathered himself, fiddling with his hands against his knees before folding them. 

Reid shrugged, saying quickly, "My last partner was... satisfied. I wasn't, you know, the controller of the situation so it wasn't my fault if he didn't enjoy himself."

Morgan asked, "Did _you_ enjoy yourself?"

Reid smiled wistfully, glancing out of the window, "Actually, yeah. It was kind of nice. Really awkward dry humping on my living room couch. It wasn't anything fancy. But, I missed it, you know? Feeling someone. Being held like that -- needed like that. It made me feel... I don't know... wanted. I remember at one point wondering if he actually wanted to have sex with me, but he kind of climaxed against my leg, which was kind of anticlimactic. Pun definitely intended."

Morgan gasped, lifting a hand to press against his chest, scandalized, "He didn't finish you off?! That asshole."

"No. He did." Reid mussed around with his hair nervously again, "He definitely did."

Morgan wiggled his eyebrows, "Hand job? Blow job? What..."

Reid 's face got even redder, pasty patches of pink along his throat and jaw. He bit his lip.

Morgan nodded, pushing down his unjust jealousy, "He sucked you off. Wow. Must have been nice."

Reid shrugged, looking out of the window again, "Eh. He was okay. I've had better. I feel bad though, I had to pretend he was someone else to finish, so..."

Morgan let out another gasp, "Oh, my. I am getting so much juicy gossip from you today. Who did you think about? Angelina Jolie? Brad Pitt?"

Reid shook his head, hiding his face in his hands again, "You going to make fun of me. I can't tell you."

"Why?" Morgan made a face, stopping the car at the red light in front of them, watching as Reid fiddled with his hair.

Reid answered, "I wasn't thinking about a person in particular. I was thinking about certain features, you know? I kind of have a type when it comes to guys and while Joseph DeLaurie, Algebra professor, was cute and funny and we had some stuff in common... he's not what... gets me... you know! Gosh. This is so weird to talk about."

"No, it ain't." Morgan cocked his head to the side, starting the car up again to push through the green intersection, "He's not what makes you cum?

Reid flailed his hands all around, giving Morgan an exasperated stare, "Dude! Don't say it like that!"

Morgan shrugged, unbothered, "So what? I said 'cum'. Get over it. That's okay, you know. Having a type. It doesn't make you shallow. It's just honest. While Steve Buscemi is a nice dude, he's not what I picture when I'm in the shower stroking it. It's natural to have something that revs your engine. If you didn't, you would have no idea what you liked. So, what kind of features are we talking? Tits or man bits?"

Reid ducked back into his hands, "I don't know, just... a big, strong, kind of burly, muscular, can like... grab me and..."

Morgan felt his ego expand at every word, prodding, "And..."

Reid leaned his head back against the seat, licking his lip once more, but this time in residual arousal instead of unrest as he sped out, "AndCanLikePushMeAgainstAWallAndPoundTheShitOutOfMe. Jesus. Christ. I can't believe I just said that to you. Don't repeat that. Please. Don't."

Morgan kept his eyes on the road, intentionally flexing his arms in his tee shirt and sitting with his chest a bit more puffed out than before, "Hey, it's fine. I'm not making fun of you or anything. That guy sounds hot. Is he single?"

Reid glanced over at him, "Really?"

Morgan smirked, "Definitely. Good sex is good sex, you know? Who cares who you're touching?"

Reid went quiet, "You... like men?"

Morgan let out a slow sigh and answered honestly, "Yeah. I do. I mean, of course I like girls too, you know? I like both. But, you know the kind of rep bi guys get. 'You're halfway in the closet', 'you're really 100% gay', 'you're scared to come out', 'you're a slut who won't choose'. Nah. None of that's true with me. But, that's what I'll hear and I'm really sick of hearing it. The straight people don't like you. The gay people don't like you. It's a mess. Honestly. Reminds me of the shit I got growing up biracial. People don't care that you're both. They just pick the one they're least comfortable with and use that to define you."

"Oh." Reid said softly, folding his hands and looking down at his joined fingers, "Oh."

Morgan complained, "What, man? Just spit it out."

Reid asked, "Why didn't you tell me?"

Morgan said with a shrug, "Same reason you didn't tell me. Of course, that unspoken choice ended up being stupid. We're both fucking queer."

"I know, right?" Reid rested his head against the back of the seat again, looking over at Morgan, "So... what kind of guys do you like?"

Morgan chuckled, turning onto another road, "I can't really answer that. I'm not picky."

Reid rolled his eyes, "Everybody says that. And they usually are."

Morgan gave Reid a smirk, "The way you date whatever guy you like, but really crave those big tough Hemsworth types in the sheets?"

Reid answered with a grimace, "You could have been more delicate with your phrasing, but yes."

Morgan slowed down for a stop sign, "Fine. You wanna know? I like guys who aren't afraid to kiss me."

Well. That was a low blow. And a strategically aimed one at that. Maybe Reid understood it enough to hurt. Maybe he didn't. But, Morgan hoped so. Reid added quickly, under his breath, "I didn't know you wanted me to."

Morgan paused, biting hard onto his lip as they pulled into the parking lot of the morgue, "Well, I did. I mean, it's no big deal, man. No pressure on you. I don't want you to think--"

Reid said smartly as Morgan parked the car, wrenching the door open as he unbuckled his seatbelt, "That it would have meant anything? Yeah. Don't worry. I would have gotten that crystal clear."

"Come on, Reid. I didn't mean it like that--" Morgan sighed, unbuckling his seatbelt as Reid slammed the door behind him, "Reid..."


	6. He Knows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for some reason im not feeling so good about the way these chapters are structured. ill edit this one later

Needless to say the entire visit to the morgue was awkward, Morgan and Reid avoiding eye contact and barely acknowledging each other to save from even thinking about the conversation they had in the car as they pulled up to the medical examiner's. So far, all Reid knows is that Morgan wanted reciprocation in the form of a kiss when he professed his feelings to him. So far, all Morgan knows is Reid doesn't think Morgan would view a physical relationship with him as anything serious, despite the fact that Morgan basically ripped his heart out of his chest and offered it to him on a silver platter. There has to be some miscommunication going on here somewhere between the two because in all actuality... Morgan is in love with Reid. Like really, really in love with him. He'd put a ring on it if he wasn't so fucking afraid of messing everything up. But the whole "talking to Reid" and "explaining his feelings with words" and "being completely honest" shit is a bit out of Morgan's range here. If Reid didn't jump to conclusions and hide himself behind big words and bitch fits, maybe Morgan would be able to get through to him without working as hard as he needs to. 

So, the medical examiner answered their questions with ease, watching as Morgan and Reid tiptoed around each other like they were walking past land mines. And sure. That was awkward. But, do you want to know what was more awkward? The drive back. There was straight silence until they hit the main road. Then, Morgan tried to strike up an excuse, "I didn't mean you _had_ to kiss me when I told you--"

"I know." Reid said, "I didn't feel obliged then and I don't now."

Morgan smiled, "Good."

Reid tapped his fingers on the dashboard and there was another ten to fifteen minutes left in the drive. They filled about six of them with more silence until Reid fiddled with the AUX cord. Oh, shit. The Strokes. That's not anyone's happy music. Morgan sighed, glancing over to Reid, "So, about what I said. Outside. At my place. You know--"

Reid nodded to the beat of Main Offender, "You have feelings for me. I know."

Awkward, meet Crippling Awfulness. Morgan placed his hand against Reid's, stilling them on the dashboard, "Dude. Come on. At least pretend to be polite."

Reid's face flushed, fingers slowing to a stop underneath Morgan's. His hands were cold. He said softly, "I'm sorry. But, I don't know how to act around you right now. I thought you were straight when you told me how you felt about me. Your girlfriend was like ten feet away. She was looking at us through the window. You could have been polite about that too."

Morgan started, "Reid--"

"No. You don't get to 'Reid' me. We go through... a hell case. I told you what was going on with me. What was going on with my mom. One more thing on my mind would have been the straw to break my back and you just dropped... the biggest bomb. Out of nowhere. With your girlfriend literally watching me through glass and dead air like a fucking hawk. And you wanted me to kiss you? What were you thinking?" Reid sighed heavily, pushing his free hand through his hair as the other one grew warmer under Morgan's touch, "And then you... you invited me inside. To sit next to her. After you told me that you loved me despite _still_ being with her. What-what the fuck, man?!"

Morgan sighed, shame weighing heavily on his tongue, "Look, Reid. I'm sorry. I didn't think of it like that."

Reid looked over at Morgan pleadingly, "You never do! You're selfish."

Morgan flicked on the turn signal to ease out of the street and into a side street to pull over and Reid gripped his hand harder, "No. Don't you dare. We're not _talking_ about this. Keep going."

So, they kept driving.

 

* * *

 

 

The case was almost too easy to complete. They just ordered security detail on the bus stops and before long, they catch the dude red handed. He fit the profile to a fucking tee and when they arrested him, they found instruments of murder, fake identification, and the same brand of sunglasses in his jacket that were on the face of each of his victims. By the time the BAU and San Francisco PD got the guy in custody, it was just barely past eleven at night. 

The team was set to be on the plane first thing in the morning. All they needed to do was clean their stuff up and head over to the hotel for the night. JJ and Rossi straightened up their tools from the conference room as Hotch headed to the hotel to obtain the key sets for them. The conference room was a mess as usual, and it was a two man job. Of course it was. And since JJ and Rossi were already in the precinct when Morgan got back from apprehending the baddie of the week, he was tasked with it. Walking in to find Reid gently ripping down the paper map he and Hotch scribbled all over that afternoon.

Reid turned to see Morgan and his face fell before turning back to the paper map, crumpling it up in his hands.

Morgan started off with a lighthearted anecdote, "When we read the unsub his Miranda rights, the dude legit blew raspberries at me. Thought you'd get a kick out of hearing that."

Reid's shoulders and back steadied into a lower, slightly less tense state as he let out a chuckle, "Wow. That's a first."

Morgan picked up the small black trash bin and walked it over to the table, picking up discarded plastic cups of coffee and putting them in, "Oh, yeah. Last time I make fun of you for carrying a handkerchief, that's for damned sure."

"Cleanliness shouldn't have a time stamp on it." Reid pushed the paper map into a grapefruit sized mash and turned, raising it like he was about to toss it into the trashcan from halfway across the room, "Think I can make this?"

Morgan scoffed, placing another plastic cup in, "Definitely not."

Reid passed the mashed paper ball from hand to hand, "You don't believe in me? That hurts."

Morgan smirked, "I'll believe in you for a price."

Reid let out a slow smile, "Oh? You wanna make it interesting?"

"Fuck. Yes." Morgan smiled back. That's the Reid he knows.

Reid raised his eyebrow, "If I make it in the trashcan, you owe me coffee every morning for a week. And not Java Rad coffee from the second floor. I'm talking Starbucks. Peppermint Mocha. Double shot of espresso. Venti."

Morgan chuckled, placing the last cup into the trashcan, "Wow. You're going full white girl on me."

"It's the little things in life, you know?" Reid raised the paper ball up, readying his shot, "And by 'a week', I mean a full week. Sunday and Saturday included."

Morgan scoffed, "You want me to show up at your house with coffee like the damned milkman?"

"Yeah. A deal's a deal. I'm going to get all I can out of it." Reid said simply, lowering his hands confidently, "What do I have to do if I miss?"

Morgan said easily, "You gotta give me a hug. A real one. It has to last for a solid four seconds."

Reid rolled his eyes, "I'm still mad at you, so I'm not going to enjoy it. Ugh."

Morgan smirked, eyes closing as he laughed, "I know. I know. I'm asking so much of you."

Reid crossed the carpet, taking a few steps forward to get closer to the trashcan before Morgan stopped him. No cheating. Reid's old black Chuck Taylors scuffed against the ugly green carpet of the San Fran precinct's conference room. He took a few steps back to get in the same position he was in when Morgan approached him. He raised his arms in the soft colored Don't Talk to Me Sweater he'd been wearing since he walked into work this morning, steadying his aim and throwing the ball. 

It was childish, yeah, but Morgan moved the trashcan a bit to the left. He gasped, "Oh, no. Looks like you missed."

Reid pointed at him firmly, "I saw you move that, man, come on."

Morgan shrugged, grinning broadly, "You said 'if I miss'. Not 'if I miss and Morgan doesn't compromise the shot'."

"See? This is why we don't play games with each other." Reid narrowed his eyes, folding his arms against his willowy chest, "You're a freakin' snake in the grass."

Morgan countered, "And you're a hustler and a cheat. July 2009. Never forget."

Reid rolled his eyes, "Oh, great. This again."

Morgan finished. "Rossi's Independence Day cook out. Pool basketball. Illegal use of the hands. Uncalled for Marco Polo-ing. Splashes that were way too calculated to be playful."

Reid complained, "That was a whole seven years ago. You _can't_ still be mad about that."

"I can and I will." Morgan bent and picked the paper ball up from the floor.

Reid glared toughly at Morgan, "Unacceptable."

Morgan shrugged his shoulders casually, "Well, the memory stuck. Alright? You were wet and topless, I paid attention. Sue me."

Reid folded his arms, "Just let me get the papers in order. I'll file and call my lawyer in the morning."

Morgan added, "How about this? We both lose. I'll get you your fancy ass coffee and _you_ bring it in for a nice..."

Reid pretended to gag, "Gross."

Morgan continued, "Firm..."

Reid sighed, "No, thank you."

Morgan added, "Subtextually romantic..."

Reid made a face, "How?"

Morgan winked, "Borderline erotic..."

Reid shook his head, "Not in the slightest."

Morgan finished, "But canonically platonic hug with your friend and coworker of thirteen years."

Reid pointed at him with a firm, pale index finger, "You cheated today. Don't expect me to ever forget this."

"And you lost, so thems the breaks. Come on, cutie." Morgan placed the trashcan down and tossed the ball in, opening his arms wide. "My body is ready."

Reid wrinkled his nose, "You're unsufferable."

Morgan wiggled his fingers, "Say that to the hug that's about to happen, Pretty Boy."

Reid walked over and visibly held in any words of contempt as he walked over, leaning into Morgan's arms as if he wasn't anywhere near happy about it. He was. Morgan could feel it as he pulled the young doctor close. Reid's stiffened, tense body melted in Morgan's arms in seconds even though he was fighting it every second of the way. He held Morgan back, curling his arms around Morgan's waist and resting his face in Morgan's shoulder before mumbling into his neck, "Mmm.... I feel like I'm being tranquilized. How do you do that?"

Morgan shrugged, "Pheromones probably. You know, science says we feel comforted in the presence of people who's immune systems compliment ours. Despite the whole 'two dudes' thing, we'd make strong children. Natural selection and all that."

"I'd say that was bull, but you're right." Reid chuckled into Morgan's neck and pressed his face against his shoulder, muttering into the fabric, "And you smell really good too, that helps."

Morgan nodded, falling back close into Reid's arms, "I know. It's this new aftershave that I tried out when Garcia dragged me to Sephora with her last week. I kinda like it. Makes my skin all smooth."

Reid's right arm wiggled free and he placed his palm on Morgan's cheek, "Oh, wow. That's soft as hell."

"Right? You wanna borrow some? I got extra in my bag." Morgan offered.

Reid said with a small smile against Morgan's shoulder, "Are you kidding? Yeah. Usually I get all rough on my chin by nine. What's it called?"

Morgan laughed, feeling Reid's small chest against his body as he laughed, "Fuck if I know. I forgot."

Reid burrowed in further to his body, "It's okay."

Morgan rubbed Reid's back in small circles, his other hand trailing up to tangle up in Reid's soft, buttery curls. Reid let out a gentle sound, feet shuffling closer. They held each other for even longer, not saying anything at all for a few long moments. Reid turned his head slowly, kissing Morgan's shoulder. Morgan gasped, "Did you just--"

"Hey! I didn't want you to think I was too scared to, okay? Gosh." Reid finished, "Say anything to anybody and I will definitely smack you."

Morgan pulled him closer, kissing his hair and touseling it up a little bit more, "Can I at least tell Garcia?"

Reid sighed, "Swear her to secrecy, okay?"

Morgan leaned his chin against Reid's shoulder, patting his head, "You got it, kid."

Reid added, "It's definitely been more then four seconds. And we've got this place to clean up, so..."

Morgan agreed, "We should probably stop hugging now."

Reid shuffled closer, pushing his face closer into Morgan's shirt, "Yeah, we should."

Morgan couldn't hold back the soft smile pushing itself out onto his lips , "Definitely."

Reid smiled against Morgan's shirt. And that was when the shit his the fan. Not all of it. It wasn't the worst thing in the world. Definitely not. It could have been a lot worse. Barely the allotted amount of shit to hit the fan to cause any sort of worry. But, to Reid, this was probably the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to him in the past few years. As they were hugging, Reid _may_ have placed another kiss on Morgan's shoulder where his shirt ends against his skin and they may have been standing as close as physically possible in this embrace. He _may_ have left another kiss on Morgan's neck. His lips were so soft. Reid _may_ have left another kiss on his jaw. His lips were so warm. Morgan _may_ have pulled him even closer, almost feeling their heartbeats against their chests. Reid's hand _may_ have gripped at Morgan's shirt and they _may_ have pulled back just enough to look into each other's eyes. Morgan _may_ have pressed his palm against Reid's cheek and _may_ have ran his thumb under the smooth, thin skin under his eye. When he did that, Reid _may_ have smiled. And as they _allegedly_ leaned in, the door _may_ have burst open. And as they were hugging JJ _may_ have seen everything. 

She took a step backwards, eyes widening in shock as she placed her hand on her cheek, "Oh, my -- I'm so sorry -- I didn't mean to -- to interrupt --"

As JJ struggled to find the words to accurately express her surprise at finding the two in an intimate embrace with both hands and lips in questionable places on each other's bodies, Morgan and Reid had pushed themselves apart. They separately focused on putting themselves in casual poses in their haste to get away from each other. Morgan, leaning against the table on one hand as Reid stuffed his hands into his pockets and turned to face the window. Morgan was the first to speak, "What? No! You didn't interrupt. It was a hug. Whatever. Dudes hug. It's no big deal."

JJ nodded slowly, "Uh... yeah. They do. I mean, not like that, but--"

Reid walked sternly over to the wheeled chalkboard and placed himself behind it, completely hidden from view if you don't count his long corduroy covered calves and old sneakers sticking out from underneath.

Morgan answered, "Well, there goes my backup."

JJ said simply, "Um. Anyway. I was just going to say that... well... Hotch set up the keys for us at the front desk of the hotel. All we have to do is show our badges to the clerk. Rossi and I just finished up, so we're heading out."

Reid said from behind the chalkboard, "Okay cool bye."

JJ turned to Morgan, whispering, "So, are you two going to take one key or..."

Reid growled from behind the chalkboard, "Not funny."

JJ giggled, "Are you kidding? That was hilarious. You should have seen you guys. Looked like the rain scene of the Notebook in here."

Reid continued flatly, "You're a comedic genius, Jayje. Now, could you..."

"Of course. I get it. I'll be out of your love nest in a flash." JJ said, backing out of the door with a knowing smile, "And, don't worry. I won't tell Hotch you guys were making out in here."

Morgan placed his hand over his face, "We were not 'making out', okay? It was just a hug. God."

JJ winked in the direction of the chalkboard, "Tell that to Reid."

Reid complained, stomping his foot in retribution because JJ and Morgan couldn't really see him from behind that chalkboard, "Jennifer Allison Jareau!"

JJ rolled her eyes, heading out of the room with a laugh, "Morgan and Reid sitting in a tree!"

"Little Girl, if you don't shut up, I know something!" Morgan shouted after her as she closed the door. He made a groan of frustration and glanced over at where Reid was standing hidden behind the chalkboard.

Reid said quietly, "Go on with JJ. I can finish up in here and take the jeep back to the hotel."

Morgan paused, looking around the room for a moment. It was kind of a mess in there. Papers and napkins and pens and chairs pushed all out of place. But the tone in Reid's voice reeked of desperation, so Morgan let him go. Reid needed time to think with that big old head of his. Morgan can only hope he wouldn't think himself into staying away. He responded, "Okay. You sure?"

"Yeah." Reid answered.

So, with that, Morgan went. He jogged to catch up to Rossi and a very smug looking JJ. As he drove them both back to the hotel, JJ wiggled her eyebrows at him, smirking knowingly through the rear view window. Morgan hissed, gripping the steering wheel harder as he parked after a few minutes on the road, leaving a very confused Rossi in his wake as he stomped into the hotel lobby. Morgan flashed his badge and the lady at the front desk handed him two shiny red magnetic cards in a cute little envelope. Morgan thanked her politely before heading into the elevator. He was on the fifth floor. 

As the elevator door closed, JJ ran over to catch up to him. She hopped right in through the closing sliding doors, chuckling, "Where's the fire, Morgan? Are you trying to outrun me or something?"

Morgan didn't answer.

So, JJ continued, "Look. I get it. It's weird between you two. It wouldn't take a profiler to figure that out, but Reid's a fragile guy, okay? I don't know what was going on in that room, but it looked pretty intense. There's a lot of risk, you guys being together. Our job isn't really safe. But when I saw how he looked at you back there... he seemed really happy. He's like a little brother to me, you know. And I don't think i could ever see him hurt."

"Are you seriously giving me the 'break his heart and I'll kill you' speech?" Morgan groaned.

JJ patted Morgan on the back of the head, "Of course I am, Morgan, you have a girlfriend. I know he's cute and it's fun to indulge him and make him smile, but he doesn't need false hope dragging him down."

Dammit. Morgan sighed. She doesn't know him and Savannah broke up. And she doesn't know he's bisexual. And head over heels in love with her self proclaimed little brother. Oh, boy. Morgan added shyly, "What if his hope isn't... false?"

JJ gasped loudly, slapping her hand against the mirrored walls of the elevator with wide eyes, "Oh, my effing Jesus! You _like_ him?! _Reid_?! Like _romantically_?!"

Morgan let out a soft, quiet sigh, "Look, I can't explain it--fuck, I can't even control it--I've always kind of... loved him. And I convinced myself I couldn't have him and I got with Savi and ended up falling for her, but I had to look at Reid every day and it was getting weirder and weirder because my feelings never really left and I fucked up and made out with her cousin because it's been so long since I touched a dude and it awakened this deep, dark, totally queer side of me that loves men and I ended up getting in this weird relationship behind her back with five other super hot dudes that I would pretend were Reid and then Savannah found out and dumped me and broke my phone and computer and I slept with all five of those dudes at the same time in this giant semi-religious orgy and I still feel so empty and hollow and my entire life is one big gigantic fuck up and all I want is to feel something that's not fucking regret."

"Holy cow, dude." JJ breathed.

Morgan walked backwards until his shoulders hit the mirrored back wall of the elevator, "Fucking tell me about it."

JJ replied, "Why was I worried about Reid? You're hurt too."

"No, I'm just a mistake machine." Morgan shook his head, "I told Reid how I felt about him a couple months ago. Before me and Savannah broke up. And I swore he was going to kiss me. But, he didn't. And I got jealous in the car today and I told him that I thought he was too afraid to and he flipped out on me. We've been fighting about whether or not he should have, because I think he likes me, but I'm not 100% sure. Garcia thinks he does, but he told me that he has this thing against love, so I have like literally no chance with him either way. But, I got him to hug me. And it was amazing. Because holding him? It's the best freaking feeling in the world. It's a damned drug. And if I could just... get him to do that every day, I think I could be okay. Hell, I think we could both be okay."

The elevator pinged and the doors slid open. JJ smiled at Morgan and gave him a wink, "Well, that's not too bad a plan. Consider me on Team Hugs."

She strolled out of the elevator like she didn't have a care in the world, and you know what? She didn't. Because she wasn't Morgan. Morgan, who was suffering with so many emotions, he worried he wouldn't be able to hold them all in. Morgan, who couldn't keep his head up as he walked over to room 507, because the man he loved would be falling asleep alone tonight and his own thick, muscled arms would be empty for this night and many nights to come. He got into the door and threw his go bag down beside the bed, falling face first onto it.

Morgan doesn't even remember falling asleep. All he knew was, he was dreaming. And it was weird. He was standing beside his and Savannah's bed and she was slapping him over and over again as she read through his text messages to Keron and Kenneth and Cameron and Joey and Marcus. Then, the five men came in to the room, all nude, pulling Morgan back down to the bed, wrapping him in kisses and forgiveness. They touched him in ways he could never touch himself. And Savannah watched as they stripped him bare and took him apart, her eyes bruised with unshead tears. Then, Reid came in. And watched them beside Savannah. And then Reid got on his knees before Savannah and lifted up her cute blue lace teddy, ducking his head in between her legs. He licked and licked like his life depended on it, fingers coming up to dance inside of her. She buried her hands in that hair. The hair Morgan longed to feel as the five men touched and kissed on his body. Savannah finished on Reid's tongue. And like it always was, it was so hot. Reid stood, face a wet mess as he brought his mouth to Savannah's plump, juicy tits. He grabbed her up and tossed her down hard on the nightstand beside Morgan. And he pulled his pants down and fucked her. Right in front of Morgan's face, their eyes boring into Morgan's as they went at it just to spite him. Reid mumbled Savannah's name like a prayer and it felt so wrong. It was a sin how bad it hurt to watch it. Morgan tried to speak. He tried to tell them to get away from each other. But, he couldn't move. He couldn't do anything but let those five guys grope and touch and kiss and lick and use him as a human sex toy designed to get them all off. But, Morgan wanted to push everyone apart. And he couldn't. He was fucking powerless. 

Morgan woke haunted to a cold sweat, the bright lights of the room still on. His heart was thudding hard in his chest, drilling off like a drum line against his ribcage. He blinked hard and took in the room. Starched green sheets, old eggshell wallpaper, soft carpets such a cold clinical white Morgan felt as if he was in a hospital. This room was goddamned suffocating. He sighed, pushing himself up off of the bed to glance at the bedside clock.

It had only been a few minutes.

Fucking fantastic.

He wiped his hand down his face and sat up, kicking off his shoes and digging his phone out of his pocket. His fingers strayed across the still cracked screen to find his finger hovering over Keron’s name. Should he? Shouldn’t he? Well, what’s the harm in it if he does? Morgan’s in California. It’s not like they can do anything. Through some sort of sick cosmic joke, Morgan kind of wishes they could. Not because he’s secretly fallen for Morgan. Please. No. That’s not it. That’s never going to be it. He just wants to feel something to distract him. Sleep isn’t even enough to keep him from thinking about it. He’s hurt Savannah. He’s hurt Reid. He burns everything he touches to the fucking ground and for one moment, he wants someone to hold on to him like they need him.

One day, there’s going to come a time when he won’t even get a high off of saving a town from terror. One day, there’s going to be nothing to fill that void. So far, all Morgan has is sex. And, that’s going to get boring eventually, hell that’s inevitable. Then, what will he have? Not Reid, that’s for damn sure. And definitely not Savannah. He’s fucked that up enough for a century. There was no where else to turn, it seemed. It was 11:30 at night and Morgan was in Cali-fucking-fornia. Miles and miles away from his Chanels. What he would give for a little taste of Cameron right now, or the touch of Joey’s strong hands, or the kindness of Kenneth’s steady loving eyes. But in California, he’s alone for the night. Alone with his thoughts and his fears and his nightmares.

Fuck. 

No. 

Morgan placed his finger over Keron's name and tapped on the little message bubble, typing before he could change his mind.

 

Tues, Jan 26, 11:32pm

> Me: hey man whats up
> 
> Keron: nothin much. getting my dick sucked.
> 
> Me: lucky bastard
> 
> Keron: :) it's joey
> 
> Keron: he says hey btw
> 
> Me: fuckkk dude im so jealous. i would give anything for some ass right now. im going through some shit and i just need to get some tail. that would solve all of my problems like for real
> 
> Keron: well where you at? i might know a guy. i can talk you up to him if you want.
> 
> Me: im in cali. 
> 
> Keron: where in cali man cali big af
> 
> Me: san fran.
> 
> Keron: oooh i dont know anybody there. im sorry. i know a guy in LA but thats a hike
> 
> Me: yeah fuck that
> 
> Keron: but dude youre in san fran. thats like the gay capitol of america. just check your grindr man youre gonna be swimming in dick in t-minus 3 seconds.
> 
> Me: grindr??
> 
> Keron: ARE YOU FUCKING ME YOU DONT KNOW WHAT GRINDR IS
> 
> Me: no man wtf is it
> 
> Keron: ITS A HOOKUP APP. THE GAY MECCA OF ALL HOOKUP APPS.
> 
> Me: how do i not know what this is????
> 
> Keron: MAN IM ASKING YOU THIS APP IS SOME GOOD SHIT
> 
> Keron: how tf did you think i met marcus? he wasnt exactly lining up for football tryouts.
> 
> Me: im downloading right now.
> 
>  

Morgan clicked on his app store and found the free app with ease, pumping his fist in the air as he clicked the green INSTALL button.

 

> Keron: yes bitch get yourself some d
> 
> Me: man you ruined me for dick. i cant take any for at least a few days after last night man. you plowed me so hard i tasted it.
> 
> Keron: you know it baby ;)
> 
> Me: besides im craving a cute little thing tonight. not that your sexy body isn't beyond perfect babe, i just really need a pyt.
> 
> Keron: yeah cam told me that kenneth told him that you told him that you had a crush on your straight coworker 
> 
> Keron: he showed me a picture. theyre mutuals on insta. hes super cute.
> 
> Me: WHOA WHOA KENNETH AND REID FOLLOW EACH OTHER ON THE GRAM
> 
> Keron: yeah you told him about your little workplace romance and he went looking for him and the dude accepted his request because he realized you two were mutuals
> 
> Me: those two following each other on instagram is legit fucking my mind up
> 
> Keron: he showed me this picture he took with this hot blonde chick. his hair is fucking grabable dude. and those lips? god i'd ride them bitches raw.
> 
> Me: watch how your talking about him. hes not one of your little playthings alright? hes nice and cute and smart and kind and perfect and aLL MINE SO BACK OFF
> 
> Keron: territorial much? what hes "future bae" or something??
> 
> Me: well yeah basically
> 
>  

Morgan looked through his phone for a profile picture. He had to choose between two though. One was a really cute selfie he took with his dog and another he didn't put on Instagram because he had put up like three topless selfies in a week and he felt like he needed to chill on those. 

> Me: i have two photos. which one should i do? dog selfie or topless selfie
> 
> Keron: wait give me a minute joeys doing that tongue thing
> 
> Me: aww shit yeah man
> 
> Keron: fuck its so good derek im tellin you this boy is so good with his mouth he deserves an emmy
> 
> Me: lol you gonna cum or what man??
> 
> Keron: yeah wanna Facetime?
> 
> Me: nah its just going to make me hornier
> 
> Keron: man youre lame
> 
> Keron: send me the profile pic options
> 
> Me: [image]
> 
> Me: [image]
> 
> Keron: topless selfie def
> 
> Me: you sure it isnt too flashy
> 
> Keron: nooo its perfect. youre outside and your muscles are gleaming. and youre doing that smile i like. you look so cute, you know for a lightskin boy
> 
> Me: thanks bro
> 
> Keron: of course.
> 
> Me: wait what do you mean "cute for a lightskin boy"
> 
> Keron: nothinggg
> 
>  

Morgan clicked on the topless selfie and plugged in his info. Age? Uh... _32,_ Morgan lied. Yeah. 32. He can pull off 32. Height? _6'0"_. Weight? Mmm, gotta lie about that too. _180lbs_. Race? Hmm, getting into the deep questions huh. Morgan can't wait to have to choose between Black and White. That's always fun. You know, since he's both. Oh. Well. They have a Mixed button. Nice. Morgan clicked on that with a smile. Body Type: _Jock_. Relationship status? _Single_. Definitely single. Looking for? _Dates. Hook ups_. About? _Someone to hook up with. No strings_. Yeah. Perfect.

> Keron: im literally about to cum on joeys face are you sure you dont wanna see
> 
> Me: text me a pic of it. i cant hear yalls voices. im gonna lose it.
> 
>  

As Morgan finished up his profile, he saved it and watched as his home page showed single queer men in his area. Awesome. Ooh, you can filter based on age and type. Extra awesome. Age range? 28-38. He doesn't want a guy his age. Chances are they won't look... you know? Like... a pretty boy. Body type? Slim. Because reasons.

> Keron: [image]
> 
> Me: damn dude joey went HAM he looks wiped af
> 
> Keron: ikr
> 
> Keron: he earned himself a continental breakfast. eggs. bacon. grits. toast. im throwing down for him tomorrow morning. he put in the work you know? he earned it.
> 
> Me: why dont you two just date
> 
> Keron: eww man
> 
> Me: what?? hes cute and you two get along real well
> 
> Keron: id rather not be tied down.
> 
> Me: tied down to a hot, muscled, Greek man who makes his own money and is good af in bed? man, tie me down in an instant. gag me, handcuff me, and blindfold my ass. im down.
> 
> Keron: no youre not youre in looooooove with geekboy reid. his insta says hes a doctor. oooh~
> 
> Me: leave me alone.
> 
> Keron: dude
> 
> Me: wut
> 
> Keron: you love him
> 
> Me: dont be dumb
> 
> Keron: .....so you on grindr yet?
> 
> Me: yeah
> 
> Keron: you searching for guys that look like him?
> 
> Me: ...............yeah
> 
> Keron: yooooou loooooove hiiiiiim
> 
> Me: you know what man go fuck joey
> 
> Keron: GOOD IDEA
> 
> Keron: later bitch
> 
> Me: later bitch
> 
>  

Morgan watched as a long line of online singles appeared underneath his search bar. Whoa. That's what Morgan's talking about.  A field of cute, thin, tall, white brunettes. Yeah, baby. Let the motherfucking games begin.


	7. Texts From Last Night

His name was Scott. 

He was the first to send a message. All big brown eyes, touseled caramel curls, and a petite little frame. His profile said he was 5'8" and 29, which kind of looked like a lie. He was probably shorter and older, but Morgan can't complain. He lied about his age and weight too, so there was no real blame to be put on the guy at the end of the day that can't be put on himself. Morgan answered his little message with an appropriate "hey" and a winky face emoji: his go-to response.

Scott replied: so what's up with you??

Morgan said: nothing much. its late. looking for someone to keep warm tonight.

Scott answered: i might be looking to be kept warm. where are you?

Morgan smiled: dont worry kid ill come to you

Scott added quickly: no. i dont fuck with people coming to my house. i live with my little sister. i dont want her to hear anything. besides the app says youre less than a mile away.

Morgan nodded: understandable. im at the hotel at the edge of the block. ill leave a key for you.

Scott responded: nicee. 

Scott continued: youre not + right?

Morgan asked: what does that mean

Scott explained: hiv or anything else

Morgan answered: no. def not. im clean. you too right?

Scott said: sweet. ill head over in a lil bit. gotta hop in the shower.

Morgan added: i have one in my room if you wanna spend some time in there with me ;)

Scott replied: not my style. id rather just nail you and leave. im sure youre a cool guy and all but i have work in the morning. i dont need to be catching feelings, you know??

Morgan laughed: same. just didnt want to disrespect you by not asking to get to know that body of yours first.

Scott finished: oh please. disrespect me. if you look this hot irl imma need you to do that for a solid hour, alright?

Morgan let out a wicked grin, eyeing Scott's picture once more: really? mind if i bind you up a little??

Scott answered: fuck no i dont mind. ill bring my own stuff ;)

Morgan asked: whats that little downward arrow next to your name mean

Scott replied quickly: guess daddy

Morgan responded: if that means youre a bottom then thank you jesus

Scott said: consider jesus thanked lol. ill be over in a 20. 

 

Morgan took a deep breath as he set his phone down. Alright. Good. "Scott" is coming over in a little under a half hour. It's only polite that he cleans up a little bit too. Morgan pushed himself up off of the bed and pulled his shirt over his head before calling down to the front desk, asking them to leave a key for 507 for a young man named Scott. Once that was set up, Morgan grabbed his shower bag out of his duffle and plugged his phone into the wall beside the table to charge up for tomorrow. He toed off his shoes at the edge of the bed and pulled his socks off before walking barefoot across the white carpet to the bathroom before setting the shower on a nice warm spray. He jumped in, cleaning up quickly and getting all of the days sweat and dirt off of him, making sure he looked and smelled nice for his guest. 

After the shower, Morgan grabbed a towel off of the rack and wrapped it around his waist. He glanced into the bathroom mirror for a guide as he shaved his face a little cleaner, slapping on some of the aftershave that Reid liked. Morgan thought about him again. No. He'll save that for later. Morgan brushed his teeth and sprayed on some deodorant. He grabbed a bottle of complimentary lotion from the sink and rubbed it into his skin, keeping it as soft as his hard muscles would allow. He walked into the bedroom and glanced at the clock. He has about ten minutes until Scott gets here.

He sat down on the bed in his towel and picked up his phone, typing out a text message to Hotch.

Tues, Jan 26, 11:47pm

> Me: hey boss we all on the same floor?
> 
> Hotch: No, the hotel didn't have enough vacancies for that this time. Do you want to know our room numbers just in case something comes up and you need us? 
> 
> Me: that would be great.
> 
> Hotch: Rossi 203. Me 208. Lewis 401. Reid 404. JJ 502.
> 
> Me: thanks.
> 
> Hotch: Of course. Good night. See you in the morning. We're due in the lobby at 6:30am.
> 
> Me: gotcha. gnite

Morgan grinned as he placed his phone down once more. Awesome. They were all spread out. The chances of any of his team members running into Scott or seeing either of them outside the door were slim. The chances of them hearing anything were also small. Morgan doesn't really consider himself having done a good job if his partner doesn't make a little noise. Morgan rifled through his duffle for a condom and placed it on the bedside table and as he was looking for his sweatpants, he heard a knock at the door before it unlocked.

He looked up to see the door open. A tall, slender young man walked into the room with a magnetic smile on his face. He looked a little tired in his cargo shorts and loose tank, brown curls tied up in a damp bun on top of his head. He closed the door behind him, "You're Chris?"

Morgan nodded with a smile as he looked him up and down. He'll do. Morgan responded, "Yeah." So what? He lied about his name. He's a federal agent, alright? He can't afford to have all of his business out there all the time. God forbid if he's recognized somewhere. Scott smirked knowingly, striding toward him confidently. His voice was a little higher than Reid's, silken through with a Southern drawl mixed with the flowery drama of a boy who was raised watching Farrah Fawcett on television. Yeah, he's a little feminine. But, who isn't? 

"Thank God." Scott tossed Morgan a small red backpack, stepping out of his flip flops as he approached Morgan. He straddled Morgan on the bed easily, legs wrapping around Morgan's waist as he pulled him in close for a kiss. Morgan kissed him back. His lips were firm. Demanding. Not at all like Reid's. They shouldn't kiss too much. Morgan ran his hand up Scott's small back. He felt like Reid though. So delicate, so slender. Morgan watched as Scott pushed him back onto the bed, pulling his shirt over his head. Scott let out a smile as he bared his chest, grabbing the bag from Morgan and unzipping it. His thin hand rifled through until he found a long black cloth and a pair of fuzzy blue handcuffs. He passed them to Morgan, "Do with them what you will."

Morgan smirked, "You trust me?"

Scott bit his lip, looking Morgan over, "Not a chance. But my friend knows where I am and the lady at the desk gave me your full name, so make one wrong move on me and the police _will_ be notified. Alright?"

"That's fair." Morgan chose the handcuffs and easily maneuvered Scott onto the bed underneath him. He gripped the boy's hands up and locked them at the top of the headboard. Scott sat there, cuffed to the bed looking like a damned dream. But he had those lips. They were thinner, paler, harder set. They weren't right. He had to get rid of those. Morgan pulled the black cloth out of the bag, snapping it up against his fingers as he grabbed Scott by the back of the head and asked, "Is it cool if I gag you?"

Scott smirked, "You can try. I've got a pretty big mouth."

Morgan flirted back just as easily, "Yeah, I can tell. I gotta shut your little ass up."

"If I kick you twice in a row, unbind me, okay?"

Morgan answered, "Definitely, baby. Whatever you say goes."

"Or don't say," Scott smirked as he sat there patiently getting the cloth tied around his mouth, Scott moaned through the cloth, the binding deepening his voice a little bit with his lack of control over his tone. Yeah, there we go. Almost perfect. Morgan pulled the elastic band from around his bun, teasing it loose with his hands. The boy's hair fell down around his ears. Loose curls, brown eyes, soft, slender body. Yeah. That's more like it.

Morgan pressed his lips to the boy's long neck, nipping at the skin as his pale skin flushed and his Adam's apple slid softly under his skin. He was beautiful. Morgan kissed along his neck, traveling down his warm skin, holding him gently. He felt perfect. Morgan could almost feel Reid in his arms again. As he unbuttoned those cargo shorts and pulled them off of his soft, freckled skin, Morgan fell out his fantasy a little. Reid didn't have freckles. The hair on Scott's legs suggested that he was a natural blonde. Reid barely had any hair on his body at all. But, what could be a better distraction than kisses down low, Kelly Rowland style? And, what a distraction it was.

Scott's cock tasted like Irish Spring. His hips trembled in his hands. He was beautiful like this, all soft and gentle. He looked down at Morgan with those big brown eyes, and those dark lashes almost looked like the ones of the boy he loved. Morgan imagined blowing Reid. Feeling his soft, shapely thighs quivering around his neck and those pale, cold fingers sliding across his shaven scalp. Scott was a close fit though. The closest Morgan's ever felt. And as he fingered Scott open with the silicone based lube from his back, he squirmed like Morgan always imagined Reid would.

Morgan must have asked if Scott was okay twenty times before this point, getting a brief impatient head nod each time.

Fucking him felt like sealing a Band Aid over a bullet wound, but distraction is distraction. Scott seemed to be enjoying himself. Focusing on finding Scott's prostate took a few minutes, but when he did, the boy jerked and moaned against his bindings, tugging on the headboard. His pretty throat tightened as he gasped against the gag, wrists rattling against the wall, back writhing against the pillow behind his back. He was tight, yeah. He felt good, yeah. But, he wasn't anything special. Nothing Morgan hasn't felt time and time again. At this point, it might not even get him to finish. So, Morgan admits it. He pretended Scott was Reid again, reaching over to the lamp and dimming the lights to help blur his vision. He was so close. Almost Reid. Almost his perfect, beautiful boy. Morgan fucked into him with a steady beat, hands gripping all over his body, trying to remember how Reid's fragile body felt in his hands. His back, his legs, his waist, his broad shoulders, his near perfect slender arms, his sharp collarbones, his thin fingers, his cheekbones, his brown eyes, his beautiful eyes. 

He wasn't ready for Scott to cum so soon. Just five more minutes would have been fantastic. But, he can't control Scott. He's a person, not a fantasy. So, when Scott's back arched and his breath sharpened, Morgan beat his body just the way he reacted to it, sliding his hand around his cock and pulling the orgasm out of him. He made this noise when he came. Sounded almost like a woman. All high notes and begging. He wasn't lying. It must have been a long time since he's been laid. Damn. He was really into it. Good. That made Morgan feel a little less bad about using him. Morgan was being used too. As he slipped into the throes of passion, Morgan pictured him. His pretty, pretty boy. Shaking with passion, rumbling with need, grabbing the sheets, his hair splayed out against the pillow, those fingers scratching at Morgan's back, his lashes closed in passion, his lips bitten, his naked body flushed and glistening with sweat, his body quaking with an orgasm as he moaned Morgan's name seasoned with the occasional blaspheme -- Morgan pressed into Scott's body and kissed his neck hard as his body tightened up and let him go, trapped in that vulnerable moment with him as he came hard, picturing his coworker instead of the lover he'd taken for the night. It's okay though. Morgan could swear he heard Scott say "Kalif" through his binds at some point. Morgan doesn't know who in the hell Kalif is, but the dude is fucking missing out. That's for sure. 

Morgan pulled the gag out of Scott's mouth, letting the wrap fall loose around his neck.

Scott said tiredly, "Damn, Chris. You got skills."

"So do you." Morgan unlocked the handcuffs from the top of the headboard and Scott shook his hands out.

"Please, I just laid there. A potato could do it." Scott said, pushing Morgan off of him and reaching under the bed for his shorts, "So, who's Spencer?"

Morgan shrugged, answering just as casually, "Depends. Who's Kalif?"

Scott started to laugh, tugging on his cargo shorts with a little wince, "My sister's husband."

Morgan chuckled, "Damn, kid."

"I know." Scott added with a shake of his head, "So, Spencer? Who dat?"

Morgan answered, "One of my best friends. Self proclaimed little brother."

Scott let out a surprised laugh, "Shit. You got it hard too."

Morgan leaned over and slapped Scott's ass as he pulled his loose tank top over his head, " _You're_ going to get it hard next time I'm in San Fran. How about that?"

"Ooh, please, Daddy. Yes." Scott pushed his curls out of his face and stood, gathering his crap into his red backpack, "Hit me up when you come back around town, alright?"

Morgan watched as Scott got his shit together. He moved with more grace than he'd ever seen from a man so tiny. He was probably a dancer or athlete or something. Morgan bets on it. He asked, "What do you do? Here in Cali, anyway."

Scott smirked, hauling the backpack over his shoulder as he answered, "Jockey. If you can believe it."

Morgan raised his eyebrows, "You ride horses?"

Scott shrugged, "On the weekends. Any other time, I'm bartending. I make a mean Manhattan."

Morgan smiled gently, "I expect one next time."

"Yeah, fat fucking chance, man." Scott said with a laugh, making his way out of the room with ease, taking his key and smiling at Morgan through the doorway, "Good luck with Spencer."

Morgan saluted from the bed, "Same with Kalif."

Scott rolled his eyes and exited, closing the door hard behind him, waltzing out of Morgan's life just as quickly as he came in to it. Morgan almost missed him. He glanced at the clock. 12:38am. He can get a couple hours of sleep in if he works on it. Morgan laid down, tying up the used latex and tossing it into the trashcan beside his bed. He settled under the sheets and closed his eyes, praying for sleep to come, holding on to the image he saw of Scott all tressed up, looking so much like the man of his dreams. Maybe the app will find more of them in Virginia. Small, cute little things like Scott just pining away for someone they'll never have, feeling Morgan's pain as they healed each other.

Walking over to the edge of his emotions, Morgan shut off the lights and tipped over the mountain of things he wished he didn't feel. He closed his eyes harder, feeling his lashes press against his cheeks as he struggled to let go. Right about now, he wishes grass wasn't illegal. He'd have himself a nice lungful of it before you could say "Doctor". But, it is; And there are constant surprise drug tests. A hazard of a government job. Morgan just wishes he could fall asleep. Maybe he could count sheep. Maybe he could pretend to be somewhere better.

His phone buzzed. Morgan glanced at it to see a text message.

Wed, Jan 27, 12:41am

> Pretty Boy: Hey, I know it's late and I don't know if you're awake or will even see this until morning, but I have something to say. I won't be able to sleep if I don't get this off my chest. Text me back if you're up.

Morgan smiled at the note.

> Me: im awake

The reply was almost instant.

> Pretty Boy: Okay, good. Basically, I wanted to say that I do like you a lot and I really don't want to be mad at you. You chose a really inconvenient time to lay your feelings out there on the line. I mean _really_ inconvenient. But, you still risked a lot by telling me -- even if it was spur of the moment -- and by not answering and shutting you down later on, I realize I may have hurt your feelings which I didn't want to do.
> 
> Me: its ok
> 
> Pretty Boy: No. It's not. I hurt you. I don't know what's wrong with me. I never know what to say. 
> 
> Me: i think i'll be alright kid dont worry too much about it
> 
> Pretty Boy: Too late. I'm up at one in the morning, thinking about you and the way you looked when I walked away. And I was selfish too, trying to deny your feelings for me even though you didn't say it.
> 
> Me: why did you
> 
> Pretty Boy: Because, I didn't think it could be true. I didn't want it to be true.
> 
> Me: because you dont want to be with me. i know. i get it. its cool.
> 
> Pretty Boy: No, Derek. It's not cool, because I don't know what I want.

Morgan stared at his phone for a second. Whoa. What's he trying to say?

> Me: wut you mean
> 
> Pretty Boy: I like you as a friend, okay. I like what we have with each other. It's fun and it's friendly and we can count on each other and respect each other. It's fantastic. There's never a time I don't want to be around you. But, then again... there are times when I... gosh, I can't say it.
> 
> Me: dont be scared man im not gonna laugh at you
> 
> Pretty Boy: Fine. Don't tell anybody. I mean it. I will pants you in front of the entire team if you do.
> 
> Me: lol i promise
> 
> Pretty Boy: I see you as a great friend and that's awesome, but there are times when I just want to make out with you.

Ho. Ly. Shit. What?! Yes. Yes! Reid wants him! Fuck yeah! Morgan dropped his phone in his lap for a second, scrambling to pick it back up and type a response, but before he could he received another message.

> Pretty Boy: It's not my fault, alright! I don't walk around wanting to kiss you! It'll just hit me at random times! Like when you rest your arms on a door frame or smile like really slowly or when you take off your sunglasses and you get all squinty. I actually blame you for it, because you post a lot of half naked workout photos on Instagram and they're confusing me sexually.
> 
> Pretty Boy: And it's natural to find yourself attracted to someone when seeing them in a certain romantic light, it's normal.
> 
> Me: its normal that you want to kiss me
> 
> Pretty Boy: Yes.
> 
> Me: and you don't want to date me
> 
> Pretty Boy: I'm sure you would be a fantastic boyfriend, but I'm not really doing the whole love thing, so....
> 
> Me: gotcha
> 
> Pretty Boy: And I don't even think we'd work out well, I mean, what would we do? Go on dates after work when we're both tired and annoyed? And we both suffer from varying levels of PTSD, so if I'm having a panic attack and you're having a panic attack, who's driving the car?
> 
> Me: true but, not true. i go to therapy a couple of times a month and ive learned to control some of my terrors. i could calm down enough to help you and whenever youre breathing and stable again, you could just rub my back or whatever. That's what me and Savannah did.
> 
> Pretty Boy: Savannah had PTSD?
> 
> Me: yeah she got in this really intense crash with a drunk driver five years ago and her little cousin passed away so sometimes shes too scared to drive
> 
> Pretty Boy: Oh, wow. That must suck.
> 
> Me: it does. so shed be freaking out and id be freaking out and it would seem like a mess until i got myself under control and helped her so we could both calm down enough to go down the street to CVS
> 
> Pretty Boy: So, I guess our mental health wouldn't hinder us. But what about dates? How would that even work?
> 
> Me: it would probably be the best thing ever. we could stay an extra night in ever city we go to after the cases are over and check out the best restaurants and coolest museums in every state.
> 
> Pretty Boy: Okay.... you got me there, that sounds awesome. But, I'm demisexual (which makes me gray asexual) and I'm not at a point where I'm romantically into you enough to want to have sex anytime soon. Even when we're together, I might rarely even be in the mood to have sex.
> 
> Me: so?
> 
> Pretty Boy: You'd want to date me even if there's a chance that we might never have sex?
> 
> Me: i dont know if you understand what "i love you" means.
> 
> Pretty Boy: Holy cow. That's intense. Love. Uhhhhh....
> 
> Me: i know you have an issue with the whole love thing, im sorry
> 
> Pretty Boy: No. Don't be sorry. You can't control that.
> 
> Me: if only i could
> 
> Pretty Boy: I don't think I could be with you. I'd fall in love with you. I know I would. And I'm really uncomfortable with that. We have such a dangerous job. If you got hurt... or if you died... it would ruin me. And we're just friends. If I loved you, I don't know what I'd do.
> 
> Me: now you know how i feel every time you tAKE OFF YOURE DAMN KEVLAR VEST YOU IDIOT
> 
> Pretty Boy: I'll try to stop doing that lol
> 
> Me: TRY?! THATS NOT GOOD ENOUGH! STOP. DOING. IT.
> 
> Pretty Boy: Sometimes, the case calls for it.
> 
> Me: sometimes?! sometimes?! /sometimes/ imma put nair in your shampoo! dont you ever fucking do that again! what are you trying to give me a damn heart attack?!
> 
> Pretty Boy: Sorry about that.....
> 
> Me: *sigh* one day i will scare you so damn hard. i will jump out at you from behind a bush with knives taped to my fingers, and when you scream i'll just say "sorry, i'll try to stop doing that"
> 
> Pretty Boy: Okay, okay. Fuck.
> 
> Pretty Boy: If it matters that much to you, I promise to never do it again.
> 
> Me: good enough
> 
> Pretty Boy: So, we're in agreement then? About us?
> 
> Me: huh
> 
> Pretty Boy: We're not going to date each other. 
> 
> Me: if thats what you will make you happy, sure.
> 
> Pretty Boy: It would.
> 
> Me: awesome

It was not awesome. Morgan's heart was shattering in his ribcage.

> Pretty Boy: Thanks for being cool about it. Friends?
> 
> Me: friends. definitely.
> 
> Pretty Boy: Great!
> 
> Me: but the next time you get the urge to kiss me, i say you should just go for it.
> 
> Pretty Boy: Really? It won't be weird?
> 
> Me: no way. friends do it all the time. me and penelope have drunk made out like seven times already. 
> 
> Pretty Boy: WHOA ARE YOU FOR REAL
> 
> Me: yeah dude. emily kissed me once too
> 
> Pretty Boy: SHUT. THE. FRONT. DOOR.
> 
> Me: oh yeah, def. shes a great kisser. you know, platonically
> 
> Pretty Boy: So you're not into her anymore?
> 
> Me: psh what nah never no way
> 
> Pretty Boy: You do remember that card game we had on the plane when we actively discussed your massive crush on her, right?
> 
> Me: that was you?? i could have sworn that was rossi.
> 
> Pretty Boy: Lol, no it was me.
> 
> Me: oh im sorry man. i was trying to deny it. i know you had a little thing for her too.
> 
> Pretty Boy: We all did. It's no big deal. Don't sweat it.
> 
> Pretty Boy: So, I reiterate: you're not into her anymore?
> 
> Me: no. funny enough, when she kissed me i felt so much nothing that the crush zipped out of my body and flew to Indonesia
> 
> Pretty Boy: Lol for real?
> 
> Me: honest to god
> 
> Pretty Boy: Too much tongue?
> 
> Me: HOW DID YOU KNOW
> 
> Pretty Boy: I sense these things.
> 
> Me: what, so you kiss with the perfect amount of tongue?
> 
> Pretty Boy: I like to think so, yeah.
> 
> Me: prove it

Shit. Shit, shit. Morgan gasped as he watched that last blue text bubble float up instead of staying in his plain message bar. He wishes he could take it back. He didn't mean to flirt. Holy cow. Delete. Delete! Come on, cloud! Don't send. Fuck. It sent. 

> Me: im so sorry i didn't mean to say that
> 
> Pretty Boy: Why? I just might one day
> 
> Me: for real?
> 
> Pretty Boy: Yeah.
> 
> Me: .......how would you kiss me?
> 
> Pretty Boy: With care and attention and respect. Like a man.

Morgan let out a dragged sigh, laced with a light moan. Yeah. That sounds like him.

> Pretty Boy: It would be ideal if we were alone too, you know? Nobody watching. I don't like the idea of someone peeking in on us. Maybe like a flat surface or a wall or something to lean on, so that I can focus on you instead of standing upright.
> 
> Pretty Boy: I think I'd like it better being held by you though. Just relaxing and letting you...... gosh
> 
> Me: continue please
> 
> Pretty Boy: I'm embarrassed now.
> 
> Me: dont be its cute
> 
> Pretty Boy: I don't know. It's late. I should probably go to sleep.
> 
> Me: noooo :(
> 
> Pretty Boy: You should sleep too. Our call is 6:30
> 
> Me: but i wanna talk to you more
> 
> Pretty Boy: Me too. But, sleep is important.
> 
> Me: maybe i can take you up on your offer from this morning. netflix? scotch? you still in?
> 
> Pretty Boy: Seriously? Yeah! I'm still working on Dexter though, so I'll vote for at least one episode of that.
> 
> Me: and i'll try to get you hooked on Orange is the New Black
> 
> Pretty Boy: What's that about?
> 
> Me: hot lesbians in jail
> 
> Pretty Boy: Do they make out and stuff?
> 
> Me: oh yeah. heavy on the "and stuff". its a netflix owned show so there's titties galore.
> 
> Pretty Boy: Well.
> 
> Me: omg im so sorry i forgot. gray ace. are you not into tv with sex scenes in it? because if so there are others
> 
> Pretty Boy: Oh, no. I'm cool with it. I'm very cool with it. Almost too cool with it. :)
> 
> Me: nicee
> 
> Pretty Boy: So, wanna say about 7?
> 
> Me: yeah def. my place or yours.
> 
> Pretty Boy: Mine's closer to the office and it has the booze already, so probably there.
> 
> Me: great~
> 
> Pretty Boy: Double great.
> 
> Me: i'll grab some supplies. maybe we can make some dinner instead of ordering in.
> 
> Pretty Boy: You know how I am in the kitchen.
> 
> Me: i do. which is why im supervising. non-negotiable
> 
> Pretty Boy: Uncontested.
> 
> Me: cool. i guess i'll see you in the morning then.
> 
> Pretty Boy: I guess you will.
> 
> Me: ttyl
> 
> Pretty Boy: :)
> 
>  


	8. Thanks, Whitney

Shoulder heavy with a full go-bag, Morgan walked into the hotel lobby. Hotch was at the front desk making small talk with Rossi as they waited for the rest of the team to come downstairs. It looked like it was only them three for a moment. Morgan made his way over to the desk, greeting the nice older lady and handing her three key cards back with a wink. He called her "doll" when he thanked her and she blushed. He likes that he can do that, reduce people to a quivering pile of stutters and rosy cheeks with nothing but an insinuation. He used to consider it a superpower before Garcia told him it was his cheekbones and kind eyes doing most of the work, not him. 

He hiked the bag up further on his shoulder, trying to make it more comfortable on himself as he found his way to the other side of the lobby, eyes settling on a comfortable looking plush red couch. Yes. It was early and he was still exhausted, more tired than usual considering he stayed up later than usual sleeping with Scott and texting Reid with more than his usual gusto. Morgan smiled to himself. Reid has feelings for him, Morgan's sure of it. He said that he's plagued by bouts of wanting to kiss him, and he's thought of too many reasons why they wouldn't work out off the top of his head for it not to have crossed his mind before. And they're cooking dinner and watching movies tonight. Things are looking good. Things are looking real good.

As Morgan eased his way into the couch, he noticed a young man sitting with a giant newspaper. The most recent San Francisco Times. Classy. Morgan checked out his fingers as he sat, thin, pale, ringless, with nails just long enough to feel against the back of your neck. Classy, classy. He glanced down to the bottom of the paper to check out his pants. Dark blue, well tailored slacks. Classy, classy, _classy_. Morgan shook his head. Mmm. Yes. His kind of man. Morgan scooted over closer to the other side of the couch, leaning his elbow against the soft, cushiony arm with every intention of chatting him up. Flirty smile, raring and ready to go, Morgan let out a simple, "Hey, there. How's it going?"

The newspaper folded, revealing the tousle haired head of his coworker.

"Reid! Reid. H...hey, dude. Of course, _you're_ here." Morgan scoffed, shaking off the fact that he was honestly about to hit on a guy he already knew, "How the hell are ya?"

Reid folded the paper down to a quarter of the size, placing it in his lap before grabbing to large paper cup of java beside him, "Tired for one. I really should have popped a Zanax or something instead of texting you so late. I have the biggest sleep deprivation headache, it's crazy. How are you? Zombie mode too?"

Morgan shook his head, "I'm actually awesome. I'm glad we talked. I feel good."

Reid smiled softly, "I'm glad too. We needed to hash a few things out."

Morgan added, "I could have gone with another hour of sleep and a cup of joe, but it is what it is. If Jay and Tara got down here at some point, we could get on with our day and fill out the closing case files."

Reid sighed, "I don't understand. How you're human without coffee?"

Morgan said simply, "Well, diet and exercise do a lot to aid in--"

Reid shook his head, tossing up his free hand, "Nope! Sorry I asked."

Morgan cracked a smile as Reid set down the coffee and pushed his hands into his hair as if he wanted nothing more than a nap, "It's okay, baby boy. Keep on keeping on with your take-out and gym phobia. You're fucking hot when you're all sleepy."

Reid glared, pointing a finger at him, "Hey now, with the flirting, man. I thought we talked about this."

" _This_ , yes." Morgan said, gesturing between the two of them, "But we didn't say shit about flirting. There was no Smooth Talk clause in our little agreement." Morgan said knowingly, smiling as he leaned back into the couch, "I thought you'd remember all of it, considering your fine little eidetic ass got our entire conversation in writing."

Reid's jaw dropped at Morgan's statement as he cocked his head back in shock, "My _eidetic ass_?"

Morgan shook his head, "Speaking of it, I always had this question that's been burning inside me for years, just waiting to be asked."

Reid rolled his eyes, "If you're about to ask me what I think you're about to ask me, you genuinely risk losing my friendship."

Morgan regarded him with a wink and a smile as he asked it anyway, "Have you ever read something really, really sexually explicit? And if so, is _every single word of it_ still there in your brain?"

Reid gave Morgan a stern look of betrayal, disappointment darkening his elven features.

Morgan asked, "So, that's a 'yes'."

Reid flipped open his newspaper and flattened it out, flipping it in front of him to hide his face as he began to read it again.

Morgan said simply, "Oh, yeah. Definitely, yes. You totally seem like the type of guy that's exclusively into bibliopornography. I don't know how I didn't see it sooner. Which was your first? Fifty Shades? Wyoming Stories? _Brorotica_?"

Reid huffed behind the newspaper.

"Okay. Brorotica. Good to know." 

"First of all, the fact that you know the word 'bibliopornpgraphy' well enough to use it correctly in a sentence worries me. I'm not even going to mention the fact that you just pulled two 18+ homoerotic novels out of your pocket like you were discussing the weather." Reid gave him a stern look and pulled down the newspaper to eye level before saying to Morgan's face simply, "Second of all, it was Sistah Souljah's _The Coldest Winter Ever._ I found it in my Contemporary Lit teacher's bookshelf when I was interning as her secretary. I didn't know it was porn until I got to the fourth chapter. The summary in the back was outstandingly deceiving."

Morgan chuckled and winked, "My sister had that one. I read it too. You're a true thug. I approve."

Reid settled the newspaper back onto his lap before saying simply, "Look, I appreciate video pornography and all for what it does to people, but there's something about screwing someone's mind that intrigues me."

Morgan bit his lip, looking Reid up and down, "You make me want to write you something. What are your kinks?"

Reid answered with a flat, bored look on his face, "Coffee. Having it. Drinking it. Being awake. There's nothing hotter."

"How do you expect me to blow your mind if you don't help me out?" Morgan spread his arms out in offering.

Reid folded the newspaper in half, "I don't want you to blow my mind. Hence the gray A thing. Do you not take my sexuality seriously or--"

Morgan raised his palms in surrender, "No! No, man. It's not like that. I totally respect it. I was just messing."

"I know you were, but..." Reid grew quiet, eyes trailing to the floor as he explained, "I kind of wish I was like everybody else, you know? I feel like there's this thing I'm missing out on that so many people get to enjoy without question. It's like there's a part of me that doesn't work, and I'm reminded every day that I'm weird and different. I really don't want to be like this. But, I am. And I deal with it. So, is it that much to ask you, one of the few people I'm out to, to just try to understand? How did you feel when you realized you liked boys?"

Morgan sighed, "Like shit."

Reid answered, "And how many heterosexual people flaunted their easy happiness in front of you, when you knew there was a part of you that would never truly fit in no matter how hard you tried? When you knew you'd never be that happy? You know, because you liked girls enough for it not to be a problem, but you liked boys enough for it to be a constant reminder that you were different."

Morgan said with a shy look, "A lot."

Reid reached over and did something he doesn't usually do. He touched Morgan's arm and found his eyes to hold his gaze, "I get it, okay? It sucks. But, let's be cool with each other when it comes to this. We're the only queer people on the team. We've gotta stick together. You're bi and I'm gray A and we are the way we are. No one knows our exact struggle like we do. Let's act like it. It would be the best if you didn't talk about sex so much around me. Can you help me out by doing that?"

Morgan watched Reid's eyes grow from concerned to more relaxed as Morgan replied that he would, "Yeah, man. Of course. Anything for you."

Reid smiled slowly and Morgan could swear the sun was rising behind his head, warming up the room and brightening everyone's mood in a five mile radius, "Hey. Thanks."

Morgan couldn't help but smile back as he answered, "Sure. I'll talk about anything you want to talk about. How about that String Theory?"

Reid started to laugh and it was so ridiculously beautiful, Morgan could hardly breathe. So, instead he watched. Alright. He's going to have to be a lot less flirty around Reid. Yeah. He could make that work. Definitely. Just hack off a chunk of his personality and toss it away. Or, at least, that's what it seems like. Morgan's visited more than a few shrinks in his lifetime. His flirtation is a defense mechanism. If he could make someone smile or blush or look at his handsome face instead of deeper into his personality, it distracts people from asking questions that could dig at him. He doesn't show people that quiet, reserved, weak part of him. The part of him that loves too much, the part of him that fears rejection, the part of him that wants a father that he'll never have, the part of him that was dragged into a cabin and twisted into the rough image of an adult way too early. There are so many things he hides. And, when the people closest to him are surprised by a new bit of information, the question on all of their minds is "how didn't I know this sooner"? 

So, yeah. Morgan's a flirt. He's always been one and he'll always be one. There was a time when Reid had gotten punched in the face right in front of him, jumping on top of an unsub trying to keep him away from Morgan as much as he could with those tiny little fists. Yeah, Morgan ended up taking most of the licks after that, but seeing Reid hurt like that made Morgan feel such a profound darkness in his spirit. Darkness he would give anything for Reid to never see. So, everything that came out of his mouth around Reid was a flirtation for at least a couple days. He was hoping and praying at every blush and downward cast smile, "Don't see me. Please, don't see me. Whatever you do, _please_ don't see me." Because, if Reid trained his eye enough and really focused, he could probably hear every single terrifying threat he wished on anyone who even dared to touch Reid. And that would most definitely scare him. And that would be the worst thing ever. How can Morgan protect a man who was afraid of him? Afraid of what he had the potential to do? He couldn't. No way.

When Garcia called him out on it, it was almost embarrassing.

They had just performed the Fitness Test From Hell, AKA the Most Fun Morgan's Had Since Spring Break '92. Making his two best friends running around and tiring themselves out trying to keep their jobs when he already had the fitness tests waived was beyond entertaining. And, yeah, he mentioned the shape of Reid's butt in those shorts. The strength in his calves from standing up for long periods of time that Reid doesn't even classify as resistance work on his muscles. The light sheen of sweat across his flushed, beautiful face. He definitely mentioned it. He mentioned it over and over and over again until Reid began to grow irritated with him. When Morgan finally admitted to faking the fit test and they jumped up on him, he definitely felt the softness of that rear on his chest as Reid held him down for Garcia. And it felt like magic. So, Morgan told him it did, which made Reid smack him harder and it was just a good time for everyone involved. By everyone, Morgan means him and only him. So, he took them out for drinks after his two angry coworkers showered up and Reid decided to take Morgan's money and get roaring drunk with it. Just to piss Morgan off. Which didn't end up happening, because he was the world's cutest drunk. He's all compliments and hugs and "you're my best friend, oh my Godddd".

As Reid headed off to the bathroom to no doubt pee some of that wine out of his system, Garcia pulled him in close. She said simply, "Man. I don't know what is up with you or what you're trying to repress, but if you call Reid pretty one more time, both of us will definitely lose it." Of course, then Morgan had answered that Reid was looking awfully cute today and Garcia added that if Morgan was picking up what Reid was putting down so well, why doesn't he just follow Reid into the men's room and make babies with him already. She was also a little drunk, if you couldn't tell. So, Morgan made up some bullshit excuse like he always does and Garcia was far from placated, but she let it go which was Morgan's main intention.

So, as Reid faced him with a doubtless smile, Morgan could only smile back. It was his goal to keep Reid this happy, whether Reid is his or not.

 

* * *

 

On the jet, he received text message after text message from his boys, or The Chanels as Garcia calls them. Marcus and Cameron sang Grindr's praises while Joey and Kenneth preferred a non-digital chase. Keron remained neutral, considering himself "pro-bang". It doesn't matter to him how it comes, but he believes that any strange is good strange no matter where it comes from. Which is a nice opinion to have. Morgan's decided to remain neutral as well.

He likes his boys. His Chanels, his Grindr twinks. Inside every boy is something of Spencer he can find in them. Keron has Spencer's quick wit. Cameron has Spencer's pale, blushing skin. Marcus has Spencer's sinewy form. Joey has Spencer's shy smile. Kenneth, though. Kenneth has his eyes. Maybe that's why Morgan likes him so much -- why they can talk for hours and continue to be enamored with one another even though Morgan knows or a fact that they're not destined to be together.

But, at the end of his days now, he ends up nowhere but at home. Alone. Tired and cold in a quiet apartment where the only laughter he can count on is his own. It almost makes Morgan want to settle again. To call Kenneth and tell him he'd lied. To hand him a key and find warmth in his arms and blessed sound in their voices. But, Morgan's been there before. Desperate. Alone. And, he chose Savannah. Now look at the shit storm his life became when the lies outweighed the warmth and the sound in his empty home.  

Yeah. A life with Kenneth would be a simple one. Just as simple as the life he knew Savannah would bring to him. Maybe Kenneth's future restaurant would be a hit. Maybe they'd stay together until Morgan retires. Maybe they'd adopt a son. Maybe they'd vacation in the islands and live in a pretty little place together, just the three of them. Almost happy. But, every morning, Morgan couldn't pretend he saw Reid's face every time he turned in his bed to see his sleeping lover. Those locs and that mind and that smile were all beautiful, but they didn't belong to someone who made his heart beat so hard in his chest, he feared it would pop right out. And in the end, that would kill him.

So, Morgan did his paperwork dutifully in his office. He signed each page with care. He knocked on Hotch's door and handed him the files for the case past and was free to go. Briefcase in hand, Morgan strolled into the elevator and headed to his car, steering it to the closest supermarket. 

He tried not to be too excited about it. It's just dinner. And a few television shows. Maybe even a night spent together on the couch. That's all. Maybe if Morgan's lucky... Reid will touch him at least once. A brush of a hand at his elbow or maybe against his own hands. Maybe Reid will rest his head on Morgan's shoulder. Gosh, that would be... life changing. Imagine that. Reid resting on him, eyes closed in sleep, chest rising and falling with comfort only gained from being close to Morgan. And what if he wakes. And doesn't move. Because of how safe he feels in Morgan's care. And what if "mood strikes" Reid, just like those he was talking about in their messages, and he kisses him. Wow. _Wow_. What if.

As Morgan grabbed another box of dry noodles from a shelf, tossing them into his basket with a smile, he reminded himself that there's not a single thing for him to be so elated for. Yeah, Reid might touch him. So what? It won't mean anything. It will never mean anything. Because Reid doesn't want to be with him.

Ugh. Way to tamp down the excitement. Morgan grimaced as he made his way to the dairy aisle. He should run a class on funeral arrangement. So, he got some grated cheese and some carnation milk, vegetables, oil, and more. He plans to overcook. He wants to be able to feed Reid for a few days at least, if not more. There's nothing a belly full of good home cooked food won't do for him. 

So, Morgan paid and packed the food away and arrived at Reid's door five minutes early. And, when Reid opened the door, he stood tall, beautiful, if not a little under dressed (which Morgan isn't complaining at all about). Reid smiled broadly, face brightening as he saw Morgan, "Oh, wow. Hey! You're early."

"O-of course. You know how I do." Morgan respectfully averted his eyes with arms full of grocery bags, stepping into the apartment as Reid zipped a grey hoodie up over his bare chest.

"Yeah, I do know how you do which is why I gave you a two hour grace period." Reid shut the door with his hip and pulled his wet curls up into a sloppy off center bun at the top of his head before turning to lock it. When he gestured around his house with one hand as he walked past Morgan barefoot to the bathroom, the scent of honey and lavender following as he hurried down the hall, "The kitchen is to the left. I preheated the oven to 350, is that okay?"

Morgan allowed himself to be bitch slapped by the gorgeous scent for a moment as he continued, "Uh... yeah. Yeah. It's great."

Reid shouted as he closed the bathroom door, "Sorry about this. I took a little extra time with the paperwork and I got here about ten minutes ago. Thought I'd have more time to shower and all."

Morgan sighed, dropping the food off on the wooden kitchen counter as he tried desperately not to think about what that shower must have looked like. Especially since he's fresh out of it. Which is perfect nookie time. I mean -- no. Morgan, no. Not now. Come on, dude! Pull your head out of your ass! Now is not the time to be thinking about sleeping with Reid. Actually, never is the time until Reid is ready for that, if he ever even is. Morgan pulled the greens out of the big paper bag and answered him, "No, it's fine. I just wanted to get a head start on the food. Greens and mac take an awful long time to make if you do it right, which I plan to. When can I expect you in here for some sous chefing, hot stuff?" -- _shit! Flirting. He's gotta cut it with the flirting_.

Reid yelled through the door, "Five? Maybe ten?"

Morgan chuckled, "Ten minutes? God, what are you doing in there, writing your senior thesis?"

Reid answered quickly, "Drying my hair so it doesn't drip all over everything and putting some moisturizer on so I don't break out tomorrow."

Morgan asked with confusion, "Wait. Are you trying to tell me that your curls aren't naturally gorgeous and your skin isn't flawless every morning?"

Reid laughed, "Yeah? I'm kind of human, so..."

Morgan shook his head, "Bullshit. You're a celestial prince born of the skies and I refuse to believe any differently."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night." Reid said easily from the bathroom as Morgan pulled the chicken legs out of the brown paper grocery bag. He spotted a salad colander bowl in the drainboard and put it in the sink, ripping open the package of raw meat and tossing it into the bowl. He cranked the water on cold and let the chicken rinse and thaw out a little more. Then, he started looking through Reid's cabinets for some Lawry's or... good God. Garlic powder? Basil? Rosemary? Paprika? Cumin? _Something_. Anything. Great. Morgan sighed and looked down at his grocery bag, practically furious with himself for underestimating just how white Reid was. In the second wooden cabinet above the stove Morgan found it. His shining light. His beacon of hope. Allspice and cayenne. Morgan smiled and grabbed the barely touched bottles. Any reason why Reid would have these escapes him. You know, if he doesn't have the necessities, why allspice and cayenne of all the world's seasonings?

Morgan's phone buzzed in his pocket and Morgan rolled his eyes, hands all gross from the chicken. He busied himself with Reid's sink, steering the stream of water away from the thawing meet and cleaned his hands with dish soap. As he wiped his hands on a green plaid towel hanging from a silver rung above the sink, he sighed at the inconvenience of the message. Morgan pulled the phone out of his left back pocket and unlocked the screen. Marcus. Great.

Wed, Jan 27, 6:58pm

 

> Marcus: heyyy gurl!!!!1!! i know you on a date and we aint supposed to bother you or nothin but i just saw some crazy shit gurl you need to see it too
> 
> Me: wut
> 
> Marcus: sooooo joey and cam and kenny baby are at work and kerons out visiting his mom. and you know me. thirsty hoe as always. a bitch is jonesin for some dick. 
> 
> Marcus: and kenny baby showed me a pic of your boo on insta a couple days ago and i was like "oh okay he pretty cute 10/10 id bang". and when i was scrollin through grindr as i sometimes do, your man may have crossed my mind a couple times
> 
> Me: this better be going somewhere that doesnt make me want to smack you
> 
> Marcus: it might gurl idk alright??? i aint raven baxter. i cant see the future on some psychic shit okay?? alls i know is that i was scoping out some man candy under the slender and white category looking for some guaranteed off the dome online moonchie and i came across something fuckin interesting
> 
> Me: what in the fuck is moonchie
> 
> Marcus: urban dictionary it bitch i aint got time to be explaining shit for yo old ass
> 
> Marcus: anyway
> 
> Marcus: when i was looking for online moonchie guess what the fuck i saw
> 
> Me: wut
> 
> Marcus: [image]
> 
> Marcus: HA! WHAT, BITCH??? I SCREENSHOTTED HIS ASS. HES A LIAR. LIIIIIIIIIIIIAR. HA HA! WHAT YOU GOTTA SAY TO ME NOW HOE???

Morgan stared at his phone in utter and complete shock. There, right in front of his face, was the profile of none other than Dr. Spencer Reid. Oh, my fucking shit. What in the world even was that profile picture? Morgan glared into the screen, holding it closer to his face in surprise. There Reid stood in a surprisingly not awkward bathroom selfie, one hand pushing his curls back and the other holding the phone up high to capture his alabaster features. He was wearing a tight grey shawl necked sweater and his lip was raised in a closed lipped, confident smile. It barely even looked like Reid at all. But, it was him. It was definitely him. 

He went by Kelsey; his middle name.

> Me: holy shit
> 
> Marcus: i know right??? isnt that some crazy shit?? after all that crap you went through like "is he straight?" yeah definitely not
> 
> Me: well i know but
> 
> Marcus: look at him. look.

Morgan looked, trying not to feel anything. He knows that if he gets mad about it, he's going to jump to conclusions. I mean, Reid did say that he met someone online and... well, Grindr is online. But, it's a hookup app! And a really gay one at that. Morgan glanced through Reid's screenshotted page. Age: 26. Lie. Height: 5'9''. He made himself shorter? Why? Weight: 160. He added on weight he doesn't have. Race: White. Thank God. The first truth on this damned page. Body type: Slender. Status: Single. Looking for: A friend, a date, someone willing to get to know me on an intellectual level. Yeah, that sounds like Reid. Marcus is wrong. He's not on this app for sex -- well, yeah for sex, but not just for sex. He wants to get to know guys, so that they can connect and send pictures back and forth and develop emotions for one another. So, that they can have sex. Ughh. 

He peeked back down at Reid's screen name. Kelsey. Do people really fall for that? Morgan always disagreed with that choice. Reid doesn't look like a Kelsey. But, it's a family name, the doctor said. He comes from a long line of male Kelseys on his mother's side. And with a face like that, Morgan guesses a guy could get called whatever he wanted. Kelsey. Morgan smirked. It's not the manliest, but then again, neither is Reid. Suddenly, his eye caught the little downward arrow beside his name. Morgan's heart grew tight in his chest and his phone for slipperier in his palm than ever as a heat bubbled low in his gut.

Holy shit.

Reid's a bottom.

Morgan turned the screen off on his phone. He closed his eyes. He put his phone in his pocket. He balled his right hand into a fist and raised it to cover his mouth, pressing it in hard against his lips as he took a deep breath. _Don't do it, Morgan. Don't you dare do it. You're an adult._ Morgan did it anyway. He settled down into a southpaw left handed boxer stance and struck his hand out into the air before executing a Judo strike. He completed three more hard strikes into the air. Reid is a bottom. Reid. Is a bottom. He likes getting fucked. He likes getting it laid down on him. He likes grabbing the sheets and biting the pillow and begging for more--damn, son. No one lays it down better than Morgan. Oh, no one on this earth. If Reid wanted him to, really really wanted him to... he'd _want_ Morgan to...

He let out two more punches to the air and added a roundhouse kick to it. Just as his foot raised parallel to the wall, Reid was there. Leaning against the wall watching with knowing amusement, "...do I want to know?"

Morgan straightened up and corrected his shirt from where it had bunched up above his belt, putting his hand in his pocket to nod and smile just as knowingly back at his coworker who was definitely a bottom, "Nope."

"Alright. I accept it." Reid's hair was still in that cute as fuck bun, but his skin looked fresher. It almost glowed. And he smelled really good even from a few feet away. "What do you need me to do first?"

A whole host of things. Unzip that sweater. Bend over. Beg for a spanking. No, Morgan. Come on. Just because Reid's a bottom, that doesn't make him any less demisexual and any more willing to have sex with you. This isn't even a date. Reid doesn't even want to see you romantically. You has sub zero chance with him. Remember that. Morgan answered politely, "If you could finish unloading the bags, that would be awesome."

Reid smiled. Dammit. "Okay. Got it."

Morgan pulled his phone out, "Mind if I put a playlist on?"

"No, go for it." Reid headed over to the kitchen counter in drawstring sweats and two brightly colored socks. Cute little fucker. How dare he? 

Morgan unlocked his phone and immediately saw Reid's Grindr profile. He scrambled to clear the screen before clicking over to his Spotify premium account. He turned to see Reid working to get all the food out of the bags from behind. Morgan glanced at his butt, surveying it. Those pants flatter him. Hmm. He should really stop objectifying him. "So, we've got Nas, Aretha, and Whitney. Choose wisely."

Reid said without missing a beat, "Whitney. Always Whitney. When will my answer not be Whitney?"

Morgan chuckled, "When your ears give out."

Reid pulled a pack of noodles out of the bag, making a judging face. Well, his back was facing Morgan. He couldn't truly tell, but those were definitely his judging shoulders, "There's so much food in here. Did you go shopping for your place too, or...?"

Morgan smiled, turning Your Love is My Love on and placing his phone in the empty coffee mug on the kitchen table, swaying to the opening notes, "I always buy extra just in case we mess up a batch. And if we don't mess up a batch, we're going to have enough left overs to last us a couple days." _By "us", I mean you, Reid_.

Reid shook his head, pulling out the third box of noodles out and followed it with the cheese and carnation milk, "Mmm, cheese. So much cheese."

Morgan walked over to him, shoes shuffling against the tile as he took the cookie sheet from where it lived above the fridge, " _If tomorrow is Judgement Day... and I'm standing on the front line..._ "

" _And the Lord asked me what I did with my life..._ " Reid chuckled, singing just out of tune, " _I would say... I spent it with you_."

 Morgan wiggled his hips a little as he continued with the song, " _If I wake up in World War 3... I see destruction and poverty..._ "

Reid nudged Morgan's shoulder with a big smile, " _And I feel like I want to go home... It's okay... if you're coming with me_."

Morgan pulled the chicken out of the sink and placed them down on the cookie sheet as he got into the chorus, grinning as Reid sand along with him, " _Your love is my love and my love is your love. It'll take an eternity to break us. And the chains of Amistad couldn't hold us_." Reid passed him the seasonings and got to work putting a pot on the stove of water to boil. Morgan shook the cayenne over the chicken and asked, "Hey, you got barbecue sauce?"

"Fridge." Reid said, filling the pot up with water from the sink, "Want me to grab it?"

Morgan nodded as he finished seasoning the top layer of chicken, "Yeah, thanks."

They worked around each other, Morgan seasoning the chicken as Reid heated up the water and put the macaroni noodles in to soften them up. They started their singing up again. Morgan walked past him to put the chicken into the oven and bumped Reid's hip with his, pushing the young doctor into the counter before he went to the sink to wash his hands out. Reid sucked his teeth and stirred the macaroni in the pot. That's his plotting look. Good. Morgan smirked. As he turned the sink on and ran his hands under them, lathering up with the soap, Reid reached over and jammed the sink hard on hot. Morgan swore as his hands got really hot really fast and turned to Reid, putting his wet hands against the back of Reid's neck. He yelped and smacked Morgan's arm, pushing him away and it wasn't long before they got into the whole play fighting thing.

With a boiling pot on the sink, it was cut short, but at some point Morgan had his arms full of the man he loved and he couldn't have been happier. Reid glared heatlessly at him after losing the wrestling session he started and headed back to the pot to stir the pasta. Morgan got out the greens and rinsed them out in the bag he tossed them into a smaller pot and poured some water over it before seasoning it with more cayenne and allspice, "Dude, everything's going to taste like spicy as fuck because you don't have any seasonings in your kitchen, man. Just FYI."

Reid shrugged, "I don't really cook anyway, so why would I need them?"

Morgan asked, "But, of all the seasonings... why cayenne and allspice?"

Reid replied with a confident shrug, "JJ and I were doing this firewater cleanse a couple months ago. She was trying to get back into fighting shape after the baby and I joined her so she wouldn't feel alone."

Morgan made a face, "That sounds awful. And cleanse? Don't people do that to lose weight?"

Reid rolled his eyes as he stirred the pasta, "Yeah, I lost two pounds. She gained five."

Morgan laughed, "That's ironic."

Reid shrugged, "I know. I didn't think I had any body fat to lose. Apparently, I did. You know, I was actually getting a little flab."

Morgan raised his eyebrows as he seasoned the greens, "Bullshit."

Reid nodded easily, adding with a wave of the wooden spoon he was stirring the macaroni with, "Yeah. I'm in my thirties. My metabolism is slowing down. I can't process foods and inactivity the way I used to. It wasn't much, but I had a little belly fat going on for a year or so."

Morgan shook his head, "I never noticed."

Reid replied, "That doesn't mean it wasn't there. I mean, I didn't care either way. Some of the weight went to my arms and I have like little pudge biceps now. Ten more pounds on me and I might look like you."

"Oh, wow." Morgan laughed, "I don't doubt it, kid. Keep working at it... or, not working at it."

Reid shrugged his shoulders simply, "Don't you worry, I'm gaining it right back. I kind of liked it on me. I felt more... solid."

Morgan smiled, abandoning the seasonings for a minute. He walked across the kitchen to Reid and wrapped him up into a hug from behind, placing his hands on Reid's belly. Reid was right. He was a bit soft. It's goddamn cute. Morgan nosed into his hair. He smelled really, really good. That honey was on fleek today. Morgan spoke quietly, "If you want me to fatten you up, I can do that. I'll make you some home cooked meals a couple times a week. With actual seasoning to it. Some real tasty stuff. Get you nice and fluffy. Just say the word."

Reid held his hand out and rested it over Morgan's hands, leaning back into Morgan's chest, "I might have to take you up on it. Not because I want to gain weight that badly, because I want you to feed me. Your cooking is like stupid good. Better than anything I could ever do."

"Nah, kid. I believe in you." Morgan said into Reid's hair, holding him closer and moving their bodies to the beat as the song changed. He felt Reid's warm back against his chest and it's like nothing's ever felt more right in his life. He got flashes of holding Reid like this in his kitchen a year from now. Ten years from now. Twenty years from now. Thirty years from now. Reid's hair would be grey and his body would be more fragile in his arms, but it would feel just the same. Morgan grew somber and quiet as firm realization pushed down on his spirit.

He realized in this moment that he wants to spend the rest of his life with Reid.

And only him. No one but him. He wants to feel Reid's hands on his alone. He wants to do his fucking taxes with Reid. He wants to argue about coupons with him in a grocery store. He wants to buy a house with him. He wants to cook dinner with him every night and watch him smile before bed every night. Christ. This is some heavy shit. Love is intense, bro. Damn. It just smacks you across the face sometimes. Jesus.

Reid asked quietly after a moment, "You okay back there?"

Morgan replied, " _I know that when you look at me... there's so much that you just don't see_."

Reid started to laugh gently against Morgan's chest, " _But I know if you would only take the time I know in my heart you'd find_."

Morgan added, " _A girl who is scared sometimes. Who isn't always strong_. _I feel so all alone. I want to run to you..._ "

Reid turned the stove down and laughed, "Whitney, man. She was the real deal. It's a shame about her, really." 

Morgan blinked back what he was feeling as Whitney sang about how much she wanted to run to the man of her dreams. Yes, girl. You understand the struggle. It's real as fuck, isn't it? She got Morgan in his feelings heavy right now. Jeez. Morgan replied, pulling his arms from around Reid before feeling Reid press his hand against his, "Hey, hey now. I didn't say move."

"You want me to keep hugging you?" Morgan asked.

Reid leaned back and rested his head against Morgan's shoulder, "I don't know what it is, but when I hug you, I get this feeling like I don't ever want to go anywhere ever again. Is that weird?"

Morgan's chest swelled with emotion that he tried desperately to taper down, "Damn, man, you put it in words."

Reid grew quiet, "So, you feel this way too?"

Morgan said lightly, "Yeah. Except in a different way kind of. Like... when I'm hugging you it makes me feel like decades have passed and I'm still there hugging you and the whole time you're like... safe. And no one can touch you or hurt you. And as long as I'm hugging you, you're stationary. You're not leaving me."

Reid added softly, "Like Savannah left you?"

Morgan answered with a low breath, "Yeah. She's not the only one. Trust."

Reid placed his other hand over Morgan's hands, "I wouldn't do that to you. Leaving people is dumb. And it's mean. And you deserve better."

Morgan sighed, "I honestly don't think I do. Because if it were true, why does it keep happening to me?"

Reid replied simply, "Because they're idiots who don't know what they've got. Anyone would be lucky, beyond lucky to be with you."

Morgan said wearily, "But, what if I did something bad? Something not cool? Hurt them?"

Reid turned in Morgan's arms to look him in the eyes, hands fixed on Morgan's shoulders as he said sternly, "Then you talk to each other and work through it. You don't just... leave a guy like you. You don't just throw away something incredible because of miscommunication."

Morgan confessed for the first time, feeling shaky and utterly unloveable, "I cheated on Savannah."

Reid took in a sharp breath of surprise. He winced and dropped his eyes from Morgan's before looking back up at him, "That wasn't very nice of you. But, that's nothing to leave someone over. Did you two talk about it? Why did you cheat? Why did she react so harshly? Who was it? Did they matter more to you than Savannah? There is so much that goes into a relationship. So much that needs to be talked about. So many things to discuss before breaking something that is damaged, yes, but is still a gift."

Morgan gave Reid a look of solid confusion, "You wouldn't break up with me if I cheated on you?"

Reid shook his head answering immediately, "Of course not, no. Never. We'd work on it. Go to counseling if we have to. But, breaking up? No. That wouldn't be anything I'd even... consider the next plan of action."

Morgan asked, "But, why?"

Reid said with a smile, "Because I'd love you. More than your mistakes."

"So would I." Morgan reached up and pressed his hand against Reid's soft, smooth shaven face. "How are you so right?"

Reid closed his eyes, resting his cheek against Morgan's hand, "I don't know. But, it's really messing with me because... I don't do love. I don't do relationships."

Morgan asked softly, shuffling his feet closer to Reid's, "It doesn't have to be a relationship. You don't have to love me."

Reid tilted his head up and stared back at Morgan with floodgates of emotions leaking through his eyes; things Morgan didn't know Reid could show as he started to tear up, caught completely off guard when Reid pushed his face in closer and pressed a kiss to his lips. Morgan felt those flashes again. A year. Ten years. Twenty years. Thirty years. These are the lips he wants to kiss in a chapel in front of his family. So, he kissed Reid again. And again. And again. And again. His hands strong against Reid's back as they clung together. Reid was crying again. Morgan could feel his tears on their cheeks and taste them between their lips as Reid held onto him harder than Morgan ever thought he could be held on to. 

When they finally broke apart, it didn't last. Morgan kept chasing Reid's lips for more and Reid kissed him back every time with a laugh and a smile. It took time, but when they could look at each other without moving forward again, Reid's eyes grew wide, "The pasta!"

Reid pushed Morgan away for a second and turned to the pasta. He stirred it a few times and let out a confident breath, "Thank goodness. It's fine. Come here." Reid tugged Morgan up for another kiss, pulling him in close. Morgan forgot all about the greens. What greens? They're kissing. They're finally kissing. And Whitney is still singing Run to You. And it was awesome. Morgan pulled his lips from Reid's and lifted his chin up to press a litter of kisses to his neck. His beautiful, beautiful neck. All pale alabaster warmth and the smattering of hairs under his jaw. He tasted like soap and butterscotch. Reid started to chuckle. It felt nice on his throat as his Adam's Apple moved against his skin. Morgan brought his hand to Reid's sweater and played with the zipper before tugging it down a little, exposing more of that soft, smooth skin. His collarbones were sharp, his chest was flushed, he had a mole to the left of his heart. Morgan wanted to put his mouth on all of it. Reid laughed again But, not in a sexy way. Like in a "ha ha" way. Like something was funny. Morgan looked up at him, "What?"

"I'm ticklish." Reid said, looking at Morgan with a jovial smile on his face.

Morgan answered fondly, ever moving his eyes from Reid's, "You're beautiful."

He placed his hand against Morgan's cheek, patting it gently, "I... am having too many emotions right now. So, I'm going to ignore that statement and strain the pasta. Wanna put the greens on the stove?"

"Yes." Morgan leaned in and kissed Reid's lips again, still beyond surprised that he can do this now. "I would love to." Lean over and touch him. Kiss him. Reid gripped Morgan's shirt at his waist and pulled them close until their chests touched, guiding them into another kiss. "Anything you want," Morgan whispered against his lips, "You can have it." As they kissed, Reid ran his hands up Morgan's chest, feeling the weight of the hard muscles shifting under the loose cotton of his tee shirt.

Reid breathed into their kiss, "This feels right. I never thought it would feel right."

Morgan asked breathlessly, "Why?"

Reid said self consciously, "Because no one feels right. Ever. Every time I kiss someone, I'm always just waiting for it to be over."

Morgan tilted his head at him, "For real?"

Reid shrugged, resting his face on Morgan's shoulder and muffling his words into Morgan's tee shirt, "Yeah. I've never enjoyed kissing before. I've always done it because I thought that's what was right, you know? I mean, sex was different. If I wanted to get off, I could. But it's like my body and my heart aren't connected. I just... I've never felt _passionate_ with anyone before. I've had that sexual attraction, yeah. But, when I ultimately touch them, I'm disappointed. I expected to feel satiated or even overwhelmed by how much more I needed, but it never came. But, when I kissed you... I don't feel nothing. I feel... something. Something good. Something... I don't know, something that makes me feel all shaky and nervous and _greedy_ for some reason. Do you feel that way with everyone?"

Morgan smiled softly, closing Reid safe in a hug, "Not everyone. There are some people I feel just... chemically drawn to; some people I can get passionate with. I don't know how to describe it. Kissing and sex always feels right to me. Unless I'm faking it to get out of a conversation, then it's kind of militant, but other than that--"

Reid started to laugh into his shoulder, "You've hooked up with someone to get out of a conversation?"

Morgan confessed simply, "Oh, yeah. On more than one occasion. I give fantastic head. It's enough to make a woman forget why she's pissed, trust me. My tongue has saved so many dates, man."

Reid laughed, "For real? I almost wish I had the equipment to test that theory."

"You and your fucking theories, man, I swear." Morgan said fondly, palming his hands down Reid's body to tickle at his ribs and smiling as Reid jerked away from him with a boyish squeal, "It's always _science_ with you, never pleasure. Never fun. You just wait, boy, I'll turn you right out."

Reid nudged Morgan with a fond smile and turned to grab the pot, bringing it to the sink with confidence, "I'd like to see you try."

"You would, huh?" Morgan said, waiting for Reid to set the pot down before reaching over and smacking him firmly on the ass. Damn, that thing was soft. It was like memory foam. And through those sweats? Amen. Reid turned slowly, giving him a pointed raise of his left eyebrow, seemingly waiting for an explanation. Morgan replied, "I don't regret doing that. I will _never_ regret doing that."

Reid reached over and grabbed Morgan by the neck of his tee shirt, dragging him in hard and close to his body. Morgan followed easily. As he reached Reid's feet, he let the young doctor place his hands on his firm chest, fingers digging into the fabric. Reid looked him in the eyes and snatched Morgan by the jaw with one hand, keeping him still as his other hand wandered down Morgan's chest and settled on his belt buckle. Morgan's heart raced in his chest as Reid's hands led trails of fire across his skin from over his clothes, factoring Reid's nails against his cheeks as the most pleasurable pain scratching an itch deep inside of him. With deft fingers, Reid tugged Morgan's belt buckle and gave him a challenging look, "Oh, yeah?"

Morgan stammered over his stuttering heartbeat, as it tried to pound its way out of his chest, "...y-yeah."

Reid smirked confidently, "Really..." Reid let out a dark chuckle, "this is going to be fun."

Morgan breathed out, "I don't know what you're doing, but it's confusing me sexually and I'm not sure if I want you to stop."

"Mmm, you don't?" Reid lifted Morgan's hand and put the knuckle of his index finger, biting down gently around the bone. He smiled around the finger, releasing Morgan's face and hand before laughing with wonder coloring his cheeks, "Wow. You're really turned on right now, aren't you?"

Morgan was currently turning into a puddle of arousal and heart thumping fear, "...yes."

Reid took a few steps back, saying jovially as he turned back to the pot on the counter, "This is too much power for one man to have. I know for a fact that I'd abuse it."

Morgan let out a shaking rush of breath once Reid took his steps back, trying to regain his position on the Earth. Damn. Bottom? Please. For some reason, that made Morgan even more excited knowing Reid could use him so thoroughly so quickly. How? The kid was too damn smart, that's how. He knew how to use everything he's ever been faced with to work in his favor. Ooh. That's unbearably hot. Morgan mentioned as he swiped the pot of greens from the counter and placed them back on the warm burner Reid's pasta was just on, cranking up the heat a bit and letting it simmer, "I trust you." 

Reid looked up from where he was straining the water from the pasta into the sink, "You do?"

"Of course." Morgan said easily, heading over to the oven to check on the chicken in the oven. It was browning nicely. He added, "You're stronger than you look and kinder than you let on. Plus, I love you, so it's like... yeah."

Reid's neck flushed a pale pink as his eyes cast to the floor, "No one's said that to me in a long time."

Morgan grabbed a set of tongs from beside the oven and turned the meat to brown the other sides up, "Well, you keep advertising how unavailable you are. That tends to silence potential suitors."

Reid turned back to the pasta shyly, "It didn't silence you."

Morgan chuckled as he turned the chicken, "It did. For a very long time. But, like the great Frederick Douglass, I shan't be muted."

Reid laughed, stirring some cold water into the pasta to separate the noodles, "Comparing yourself to one of the most brilliant writers and orators of American history, huh? How modest of you."

Morgan smiled broadly into the heat of the oven, "You know that's what I'm famous for."

 

* * *

 

 

_"Last night, he said we need to talk."_

_"Well, that's never good."_

Morgan and Reid chewed on the couch, eating their dinner with glasses of wine at the table in front of them. The lights were dimmed as they watched the siblings talk with rapt attention, digging into the food. Reid glanced at Morgan, saying around a bite of macaroni and cheese, "Hey. I bet that Rudy guy is the unsub."

"I know he is." Morgan said easily.

Reid swallowed and grabbed a napkin from the table, reaching over and wiping something from Morgan's chin, "Freaking knew it."

Morgan chuckled as Reid cleaned his face, "This is so weird."

Reid asked, "What? Us cuddling on the couch?"

Morgan shook his head with jovial mirth, "No. Two FBI agents un-ironically watching a procedural cop show starring a sociopathic unsub."

Reid smirked, "Our lives are a joke."

Morgan started to laugh.

 

* * *

 

 

"Oh, shit!" Reid gasped, tapping Morgan hard on the wrist, "Oh, shit! Deborah!"

Morgan opened his arms for Reid to climb into his lap, pulling him close as Reid squirmed, ready for the last episode of the season to load, "Dude. Just wait. It's going to get so crazy."

Reid cuddled into Morgan's chest running his hands all up and down Morgan's body, just taking in the firmness and the muscles as he blatantly lied, "I'm so worried about her."

Morgan smiled knowingly, "Oh, yeah, sure. You're worried. About Deb."

Reid rested his hand on Morgan's bicep, squeezing down on it a little, "I'm just so scared. You're going to protect me from Rudy, right?"

Morgan laughed, "Sure. Keep grabbing on me like that, I'll protect you from anything."

 

* * *

 

 

Reid rested his hand against Morgan's chest as they watched the show. Morgan kissed his hair and rubbed his back. The plot was building. Deborah was on the boat and Dexter was running around his apartment looking for clues to find her. Reid asked if Dexter would be able to save his sister.

"What do you think?" Morgan asked.

Reid rolled his eyes, "I think you're being pretentious because you already saw it."

Morgan said simply, "And I think you're a profiler who's trained to think ahead. Come on, boy. I know you're not just a pretty face."

Reid added, "And I know you're not just a muscle bound hottie."

Morgan pressed his hand against his face in fake shock, "You think I'm a hottie?! Oh, my stars and stripes!"

Reid laughed, rolling his eyes, "Yes. I think you're hot. Of course, I do. Everybody thinks you're hot. Look at you. All... perfect smile and pretty eyes and tight body. Jeez. You'd think five gay men made you in a lab somewhere."

Morgan laughed, "Well, look at your damn self Twink-a-saurus Rex. I have on good authority that people think you're hot."

Reid asked, "How?"

Morgan shrugged, "Well you're mutuals on Instagram with him and he showed another one of my friends and he was like 'wow' you're hot. And then eventually half of the recreational community football team a couple towns over saw it and you go by Dr. Sexy there, just so you know."

Reid raised his eyebrows, "I do?"

 

* * *

 

 

Twenty minutes into the episode Morgan had a lap full of his coworker, kissing him gently. His hands were pulling the elastic band out from Reid's bun, shaking the curls loose and burying in his hair. The show was forgotten. Reid begged against his lips. Morgan tugged at the zipper. It slid slowly down his chest, revealing more and more skin. Reid grabbed Morgan by his wrists and pulled his hands back up to his face, whispering into their kiss, "Not yet."

Morgan sighs into his lips and asks, "Hold my wrists against the couch."

Reid asked, "You want me to?"

Morgan nodded, "Mmmhmm."

Letting out a dark smirk, Reid grabbed Morgan's hands and slammed them up on either side of his head, "My pleasure."

 

* * *

 

 

They lay on the couch, snoozing, holding each other. Morgan flat on his back and Reid draped over Morgan's body with his arm around his shoulder. Season two thrummed on in the distance.

 

* * *

 

 

Morgan woke to Reid tugging Morgan awake, pulling him up by his arm. It was time to go to bed. So, they went. They undressed tiredly and slipped under the covers, wrapping back around each other on the warm, pillowy foam mattress. Reid's curls were in is face. His eyelashes were soft against his skin. His body was warm and gentle in Morgan's arms. He lost track of how many kisses he left across Reid's skin before they fell asleep.

 

* * *

 

 

As he opened his eyes a few hours later, feeling cold and alone in the dark. Morgan squinted his eyes finding a pale light on at the edge of the room. Reid was awake and curled up in an arm chair across the room beside a heaving bookcase that Morgan's surprised he didn't notice earlier. He watched Reid sitting by himself with his flannel covered knees up to his chest and socked feet on the cushion. Reid was wrapped loosely in a plush robe, one shoulder bared to him as he read over a large anthology. Morgan shifted against Reid's bed. Reid noticed the sound and looked up, smiling tiredly, "You're awake."

"So are you." Morgan yawned, glancing at the bedside clock, "It's three in the morning."

Reid blinked slowly, "Hey?"

Morgan answered, "Yeah."

Reid smiled gently, "Go back to sleep."

Morgan raised a hand from the sheet, gesturing Reid closer, "You first."

Reid snuggled against the back of the chair and rubbed his eyes with his hands, "No. I can't. I got an idea for an essay about the distinct evolutionary, neural, and hormonal characteristics of... stuff."

Morgan lifted his eyebrow, yawning again, "That makes literally no sense, babe."

Reid wrinkled his nose as he flipped a page, "It does make sense, I just didn't tell you all of what I was researching."

Morgan asked, "Why?"

Reid said through a slow, tired blink, "Because I don't want you to know what it is."

Morgan leaned over on his arm, sitting up on the bed, his back resting on one of the many pillows Reid has on his bed, "Why?"

"Because!" Reid closed his eyes and pressed his fingers against the bridge of his nose, "I'm trying to find out why people _feel_ romantic attraction in the first place so that I can find out how to have more control over mine."

Morgan reached out a hand and patted the bed beside him, "It's impossible to do that, Pretty Boy. You know that."

Reid answered quietly, "I know, but it's late and I woke up and saw you there next to me and it felt so good and it freaked me out because I started to think about what if something happened and I would never be able to see you again and I would never be this happy again and what if... what if you got kidnapped or what if you got shot or what if you died or what if..." Reid hid his face in the book and grew silent, his shoulders shaking intermittently. Morgan felt his heart break as Reid's fears pushed him into an emotional break down.

Morgan pushed himself off of the bed, bare feet padding against the carpet as he headed over to see Reid. He pulled the book away from Reid's face to see the young doctor covering his mouth with his hand. His eyes were wrenched shut, eyelashes wet with tears as he sobbed into the chair. Morgan picked Reid up with both hands. He sat in the arm chair and put Reid down on to his lap so that he could curl into Morgan's shoulders. Reid wrapped his arms around Morgan and pushed his face into his bare neck. Morgan felt his skin dampen with Reid's tears and he ran his hands up and down the shaking back of Reid's terry cloth robe. He put a hand into Reid's curls and patted his back, whispering, "Hey, hey, baby. It's okay. You can't control it, okay? You _feel_ it. You do."

Reid sobbed into his shoulder, "I don't want to! I can't feel like this for you because I'm so scared and I don't want anything to happen to you it would kill me I know it would and I don't think I could handle it I know I couldn't handle it--"

Morgan kissed his hair and pulled him closer, trying not to cry himself as Reid gripped onto him like he was going to disappear into a cloud of smoke in his arms, "I know, Pretty Boy. Me too. Me too."

Reid sniffed, burying himself into Morgan's skin, "I lo-love you... I've loved you..."

Morgan kept them close, "I know, baby. I love you too."

Reid shook violently, letting out a sob, "No."

Morgan patted his head, "Ssh. Ssh. It's okay. Come on, baby, it's going to be okay."

Reid whimpered into his neck, "What if it isn't?"

Morgan kissed his hair again, "Then, we get through it. The good and the bad. They're both equally as important. Yes, if something happens, it will be... the worst. But, if it doesn't... imagine how happy we'll be. Just think about it for a second. Waking up next to each other. Every morning. Cooking together, getting ready together, I mean, damn, man. _Being_ together."

Reid complained, "You wouldn't get sick of me?"

Morgan started to laugh, "Oh, definitely. And you'll get sick of me. And we'll fight and I'll spend the night on the couch. But, we'll come around. We always do."

"We do." Reid said, smiling wetly into Morgan's shoulder.

Morgan asked, "So, what do you say? Do you want to give us a shot, or are you still anti-Moreid?"

Reid pulled his head up, looking back at Morgan with wet, confused eyes, "What's Moreid?"

Morgan replied, "Garcia's moniker for us."

Reid chuckled, "It sounds stupid."

Morgan shrugged, "I kind of like it."

Reid lifted his hand to caress the side of Morgan's stubbly face, "Me too."

Morgan leaned in to kiss his wet lips lightly, "I love you, man."

Reid sighed, resting his head against Morgan's forehead, "I could get used to hearing that."

Morgan added, "I could get used to saying it."

Reid let out a small smile, "...ugh... God, help me. I'm in."

Morgan cackled out a loud laugh, bouncing Reid up and down on his lap in excitement, "Yes! Yes! Oh, my goodness. I have to call Garcia!"

Reid covered his smile with his hand, "Right now?"

Morgan said quickly, "Yeah, right now. Why not?"

Reid leaned in and kissed him gently, pulling them closer and closer together and setting Morgan's skin on fire. He pushed his weight up and straddled Morgan's hips. Reid shrugged his other out of the robe, letting it pool around his waist as he looked up at Morgan with a pout on his face and a glint in his eye, "Because I want to kiss you on my bed and maybe go to second base."

Morgan gasped, pressing a hand to his chest, scandalized, "Dr. Spencer Reid! You dirty boy."

Reid smirked, "I'll show you dirty. It's about to get PG-13 up in this piece."

"That's it!" Morgan grabbed Reid up, carrying the laughing doctor to the bed and throwing him down on it, "Give me the robe."

 

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know in the comments if you would like/want to see more.


End file.
